Boys of Summer
by qfd
Summary: Tabitha is a free spirit that needs a little time for quiet contemplation and an inherited bait shop in a sleepy little town seems like a good place to start. This hasn't been the worst year of Sidney Crosby's life but it's one he's looking to forget.
1. Chapter 1

The wind rose, grabbing her long, straight, dark hair and sending it whipping across her face like fingers reaching from the depths of the sea to pull her in. She dug her toes into the warm sand and turned her face up to feel the last rays of the late Spring sun on her face.

'_It won't be like this'_, she thought as she breathed the warm salt tinged air into her lungs and listened to the familiar sound of the evening crowds filling the streets along English Bay. '_It won't be as crowded, for one thing_' she added to her tally of changes her life would be undergoing in the next few days. That was something that wasn't going to be easy for a girl born and bred in the hustle and bustle of a metropolitan city centre. There wouldn't be nightclubs and bars and festivals…_well maybe festivals_, she thought with a wry smile. She was willing to bet that any festivals would probably have something to do with cod and lobsters and not Shakespeare in the Park.

Still, she needed the new start. She'd been partying too hard, too long, with the wrong crowd. It had been fun while it had lasted but staying out all night and waking up with a blinding headache beside strangers was a pattern that was quickly growing old. Then there'd been Damon.

Tabitha grinned as she thought about him, the big, goofy, childlike bass player she'd been…well, dating wasn't exactly the right word for what they'd been doing. He was very sweet and well intentioned but the notorious party boy was nowhere near ready to settle into a life of domestic bliss. Not that she'd ever envisioned the whole white picket fence life for them but she knew she wasn't going to find that kind of future while she was still running around with an overgrown boy, no matter how good he was in the sack.

When she'd come to that particular realization, she had begun trying to think of a place to start, because obviously staying in Vancouver was not an option, not with all of the temptations it held. That was when the call had come.

She hadn't been that close to her dad's side of the family so it was a surprise to everyone in the family, not just Tabitha, that her grandfather had left her his property. The only snag was, it was in a sleepy little coastal town in Nova Scotia, all the way on the other side of the country.

She hadn't been there in years. Not since she'd been that quiet, brooding teenager who always wore black, her headphones glued into her ears and her nose always stuck in some book about werewolves, vampires and zombies oh my. She'd always felt like being sent to live with her dad's folks had been some kind of punishment, and it probably had been, just for _them_ and not so much for her. She could see now how her summers in that ho hum little village had probably been a much needed break for her parents. She just wished now that she had more memories of the place than the upstairs bedroom in her grandparent's house with the reading bench beneath the bay window or the end of the dock at the lake where she'd sit, dangling her feet in the water, listening to Nine Inch Nails and painting scenes out of some Dickensian Horror Story.

Aside from delivering the odd packed lunch, she'd never set foot in her grandfather's bait shop. It wasn't a place for girls he'd said, and she'd never argued the point, after all, dealing with worms and whatever other creepy crawlies he kept there.

He's probably thought she'd sell it, Tabitha thought to herself, and she probably would, _after_ the summer was over. Because right now, she needed to get away and a quiet little town where there wasn't any bars to line up shots of tequila on was probably a very good place to start.

"Thanks grandpa," she said quietly, turning her eyes up to the darkening sky as the sun dipped below the horizon and the first few stars began to blink into existence. Then, tugging her black leather jacket closer around her, she headed home to pack.

"So what are your plans for the summer?" Troy asked his son as he helped him unload the few boxes of his things that he bothered to bring back with him for the couple of months he had off. If he really needed something, Sidney could afford duplicates of just about anything, so there wasn't a lot he bothered to transport back to his house in Cole Harbor, Nova Scotia. Just a few cd's, some memorabilia he wanted to add to his growing collection, and one or two books he'd been reading. It didn't seem like much, he thought as he carried his one bag of clothes in through the garage. But then he thought of himself as a pretty simple guy who didn't need much.

Plus, most of what he needed to get through the summer was already here.

"Not fucking much, if I can help it," Sidney replied, putting the bag he was carrying down inside the door to the kitchen. He could put that stuff away later. He turned to head back into the garage to pick out a rod and check on the state of his tackle box. If it was one thing he was looking forward to right now, it was some alone time, out on the lake, just him, a fishing pole and his iPod.

"You'll come up to the house for dinner tomorrow?" his father asked, as if his one and only son might actually disappear into his big, empty house for the entire summer and never see his family who, after all, only lived ten minutes away.

"I will. Hey, Taylor has her permit right? Tell her to come down and get me," Sidney grinned at the thought of his younger sibling being old enough to drive. There were a lot of years between the two of them but they'd grown pretty close, despite his living most of the year hundreds of miles away.

"Sure, give your mother a heart attack on your first day back," Troy snorted, patting his son on the back. "She'll be worried sick that she'll loose both of you on the highway," he added, not looking worried in the least. Sidney was a careful driver, if a bit easily lost and distracted but most of his teammates said he drove like an old woman and he was willing to bet his little sister was probably much the same. It came from the laid back way people had here at home; after all, there was no point in rushing anywhere. "Will any of the boys be coming up?" his father asks, almost like he can't bear to give his son time and space on his own, an ongoing battle between father and son.

"Maybe, in a week or so, we haven't made any specific plans," Sidney replied with a shrug. "No one was really in the mood to talk much when I left." That was all that needed to be said about that. The less that was said about the way the season had ended, the better as far as he was concerned and for once, it looked like Troy was going to actually leave it alone too. His father usually wanted to debrief, at length, so Sidney was prepared to take advantage of his father's unusually jovial mood to slip his leash and toss his first cast of the year.

"So, dinner tomorrow right?" his father pointed at him with his big thick finger and Sidney nodded, wishing the bear sized man away. He wished he'd never told his father to retire. It had been a moment of weakness, feeling like he owed his parents for something. Most of his teammates didn't support their families. They bought them houses, sure and cars too, but they didn't pay them as if they were full time members of some kind of personal entourage.

That made Sidney smile. He wished he had an entourage like the one the show was named for, but who, his own age, wanted to hang out with his dad full time? That and his dad was a lot more like Ari Gold than he was say…Johnny Drama. No, that was Max's role, Sidney thought as he went back to going through his tackle box.

The last time he'd used it was when he'd brought the boys up last summer, which explained was there was a crushed beer can inside of it and not much more. His memory was a little fuzzy of that particular weekend but he seemed to remember his tackle box turning into more of a cooler at some point, probably after Max had dared Tanger to eat some of the crickets….

Oh well, he thought, shutting the old metal box and grabbing his favorite pole. He'd just have to stop at the bait shop on his way to the lake.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

The same old bell chimed over his head as he walked into the dimly lit shop, but it wasn't the same bewhiskered old man that met Sidney at the counter that he dropped his tackle box onto.

'Nice ass', was the first thought that came into his head as he peered over the counter to see a pair of Daisy Duke style cut off jeans staring back at him. His gaze, once unstuck from the particularly spectacular butt, followed the long, bare legs down to the diminutive bare feet that were curled in such a way that left the owner of the view providing body parts, standing on tip toe, bent over peering into one of the hand hewn wooden boxes behind the counter. He didn't clear his throat or even hit the little bell that sat next to the ancient cash register with the flip up cardboard numbers. Instead, Sidney just leaned on the counter and, well, gawked.

"Are you just gonna stand there staring, or is there something you need?" came the exasperated voice from within the box. Sidney felt his entire face get hot and he stepped back from the counter.

"I was just…uh…looking for some night crawlers or maybe some minnows," Sidney managed to explain, trying to wipe the appreciation for her curves off of his face as the woman behind the counter turned around, wiping the dark soil from her hands and flipping her long, dark hair back over her shoulder as she studied his face. He waited for the usual change of expression, for her smile to get bigger and her gaze more assessing as she realized who he was. Her impatient smile didn't change and her gaze remained, at most, judicial. She didn't know who he was. It almost made him laugh.

"If I knew what those were, I'd be glad to help but it's my first day. Maybe you could describe them to me," she said, putting those hands on her hips, drawing his attention to a rather pretty dangle hanging from her belly button, just below where her shirt was tied and not far above where those daisy dukes sat low on her hips. The shirt was also a distraction as it pulled her checked shirt down revealing an ample amount of pale cleavage that made Sidney lick his lips nervously. He felt like kind of a jerk, checking her out this way, but she was so different from the person he'd expected behind the counter that, well, he could hardly help it.

"Uh…is Mr. King around? I mean…the guy that usually runs the place?" he asked, thinking of the grumpy old guy with the long, white handlebar mustache that had kicked Max and Tanger out of his store for throwing bait at one another and pissing off his regular customers.

"No, no he's not," she said simply, her expression quickly changing from slightly annoyed to something softer, something that looked a lot like pain mixed with sadness. Those were emotions Sidney was well acquainted with these days. "My grandfather passed," she explained, gazing around the store like she half expected the old man to appear from behind one of the racks of rods and reels or fishing magazines before her gaze settled back on his. "So I'm sorry, I just got here and I don't know a grub from a worm so if you know what you're looking for…grab a pail and dig in," she suggested, taking one of the small tin pails that, as long as Sidney could remember, were stacked next to the register and pointed at the wooden boxes and plastic pails behind the counter. "Why he didn't have them labeled is beyond me,"

"Well I guess when you've been somewhere forever, you don't think about it," Sidney offered, taking the pail from her, noticing her long, deep red, fingernails and wondering how long they'd last working here. "So are you putting the place up for sale or…?" he asked, mostly out of curiosity and partly to keep her talking to him as he rounded the counter and headed for the bucket he was fairly sure would contain the night crawlers.

"Maybe…I mean yes, at the end of the summer, I think, if I can get this place straightened up and labeled and figure out what's where…maybe hire some help," she added, almost as if she was making a list out loud, talking herself through it as she did.

"This place has always been here, as long as I can remember. It would be kind of strange if it wasn't," Sidney replied, mostly because it was true. "I remember my dad bringing me here, picking up grubs and red worms," he mused aloud as he picked the long, slimy worms from the deep, dark rich soil they were kept in and put them in the small bucket she'd handed him. He glanced over at where she was standing and his gaze stuck on those bare stems of hers' and he couldn't help but notice the colour on her toe-nails was the same as one her hands. "If you wanted some help labeling some of this stuff, I mean, if you need some help I could," he offered, feeling that heat rising into his cheeks again as he turned his attention back to the worms and away from the thoughts of what those legs would look like wrapped around him….

"It would be nice not to piss off all of grandad's customers on my first day," she sighed, and he could hear her tapping those long nails of hers' on the counter and an image of those red nails digging into his back flashed through his mind. "I mean, if you can spare the time that is," she added as he straightened and brought his little pail to the register. "I mean I don't even know how much to charge you for that, for starters," she continued, staring down into the pail of earthworms as the wound around each other. He pulled a face, her straight nose wrinkling, her full, red lips pursing.

"Uh…I think, I'm pretty sure, one in a while when he had someone filling in…if I could…?"

* * *

He motioned for her to let him by and Tabitha backed up just enough for him to squeeze by and get to the register. His ass just brushed her hip and she bit down on her bottom lip as the expensive cologne he was wearing filled her head.

_You're not here to chase boys_, she reminded herself sternly as she watched him fish beneath the antique cash register with long, thick fingers that filled her imagination with images that made her mouth suddenly very dry.

His shoulders made a large t-shirt look an extra small. In fact, all of him looked like he'd just stepped off of a plinth at the Roman Coliseum. All bulbous ropey muscle, sinew with fashion model cheekbones and full lips that looked like they'd just met with the needle of a plastic surgeon. They'd make Angelina Jolie jealous.

Tabitha leaned back to try and get a better look at his ass. It was huge, but solid. Like you could smack that bitch with a two by four and nothing would move or jiggle. And then there was the width of his back as his shirt pulled taught across his shoulders. She licked her lips as an image of him throwing her over his shoulder, cave man style, filled her imagination.

He wasn't really her type. She usually went for the more pale, vampire types, the underfed musicians who only ventured out at night. She could make an exception, but he was wearing flip flops and if it was one thing she had a rule against it was plastic footwear….

"Here," he handed her a card with various items with prices. It was like a cheat sheet for the store. It wasn't in her grandfather's tight scrawl but in her grandmother's loose, rounded old fashioned script. As her gaze followed one line to the next, her eyes filled with tears. Though her grandfather had always been a gruff, authoritarian sort of a man, her grandmother had been soft and sweet and just looking down at her writing filled Tabitha's head with the smell of fresh baked muffins and pledge.

"I'm sorry, "she sniffed, brushing at her tears with the back of her hand. "It's just a little…overwhelming right now."

"I can only imagine," he said quietly, standing near her, shuffling his feet uncomfortably like he was thinking about bolting. As if she could blame him. All that this poor guy wanted was some worms so he could go off and do what men do, drink some beers in absolute solitude.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again, taking a deep breath. "I'll get that rung up for you and get you on your way," she managed, reaching for the pail and putting it on the scale, watching the red hand on the dial with vision blurred by tears.

"I'd like to help," his hand covered hers where it was poised over the keys on the register, and Tabitha looked down at his hand as he gently, but firmly moved her hand away. "Why don't you sit down for a minute or two, I'll grab you a coke, if you still have that old freezer outside?" Tabitha managed to nod her head as she dropped onto the stool behind the counter.

She was embarrassed and not just because he was cute, which he definitely was. She had totally held it together and now to fall apart in front of a total stranger…. Tabitha wiped at her eyes and clenched her teeth and admonished herself for turning into an emotional wreck at the first sniff of testosterone.

"Here," he handed her a cold can of coke, already opened and she held it up, pressing it to her forehead while she studied him from beneath her bangs. He was downing a bottle of orange juice, which made her wince. Unless oj had a at least two shots of Stolichnaya in it, she never drank the stuff. "Yours has to be the only place that you can still get pop for less than a dollar," he added, looking around the small store thoughtfully. "Actually, a lot of your stuff is…underpriced. You could probably raise almost everything a little at a time without pissing off your regulars. You could probably expand your range a bit to accommodate the campers and day trip crowd…," he added, in a thoughtful tone. He didn't use an '_I know best'_ tone or an authoritative '_you obviously don't know about these things'_ tone. He just said in it in a way that pricked up Tabitha's ears.

"You sound like a successful businessman," she noted and he shook his head, a boyish smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. It was a nice smile, an honest smile she thought as she finally took a sip from the can.

"No, shit…I usually leave that kind of stuff to other people but…I've just been coming here for years and nothing ever changes," he said, glancing sideways at her, almost as if he'd expected her to object.

"I haven't been here for years," she agreed, the beginning of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, "and I couldn't agree with you more." She looked around the place, and it really didn't look much different from the days that she could hide behind the magazine rack, watching her grandfather dropping grubs into one of the pails behind the counter. "So were you serious about giving me a hand Mr.…?"

"Umm, Patrick," he held his free hand out to her and she took it, watching with a certain degree of amusement as her hand disappeared entirely into his.

"Tabby…well it's Tabitha but…Tabby please," she added, wondering at the soft feel of his hands. He looked like the type of guy who was use to doing manual labor but his hands sure didn't feel like he would know how to use a hammer. "So, should I grab the labeling machine?" she asked with one eyebrow raised. "I mean, if I'm really not keeping you from anything," she added, finding it hard to believe that there wasn't some cute little thing waiting for him somewhere.

"I was just heading to the lake," he reiterated, hooking his thumb towards the fishing pole and tackle box he'd abandoned at the counter, "and you look like you could use the help. I mean…not that I think you can't handle it but uh…I mean if you need the help," he stammered and turned a deep shade of crimson, right up to the tips of his ears. It was darling. It really was.

"Just remember you volunteered," she grinned and turned her back on him before he could see that she too was going a little fuchsia herself.

* * *

There was a couple of times that Sidney was sure he was going to be found out, but the few customers that had come in while he was helping to organize and label the store had only nodded in his direction, wearing those secretive sort of smiles that only made Tabitha…Tabby, glance at him curiously. He just smiled back and kept to himself, and, luckily that was all they did back. That was one of the benefits of being the home town boy. Maybe most people did recognize him on sight but they also tried to let him be.

Why had he lied?

He'd asked himself that almost as soon as it had come out of his mouth, but he'd felt sort of relieved when he'd realized she didn't know him, which was also strange because she wasn't exactly his type. That wasn't quite right either. She wasn't blonde, and he usually went for blondes, but then he did like the more exotic species and as he watched her climb a step stool to bring down more of those little tin pails from a top shelf, he found himself staring at her legs and trying to decide if that was a tan or if she was maybe Italian or Portuguese, in which case that might explain why he kept thinking about that raven's wing black hair of hers' fanned out over his pillow….

And that was a thought he had to get out of his head, at least until he was home, alone. He wasn't looking for a relationship. He'd told himself that he was going to spend the summer getting his head on straight, training and trying not to think about hockey. That was Disco Dan's orders. Chasing tail was nowhere on that list.

_Oh get over yourself Crosby_, he admonished himself. _You're acting like Jordy, assuming every living, breathing woman is interested_. He finished labeling another barrel of grubs and adding their new, higher price and did his best not to turn and look as he heard the aluminum step ladder creak as she stepped onto the top step. If he looked his line of sight would be right in line with her round ass and he knew all he had to do was turn around and he could pretend to support her, to steady her, by putting his hands on those embroidered pockets….

"Fuckityshitcuntwhore!" she snarled, and Sidney whirled as the step stool crashed onto its side, leaving her hanging precariously onto the shelf that didn't look like it was meant to hold much more than those little buckets.

Sidney Patrick Crosby to the rescue, m'am, he thought doing his best not to grin as he slid his arms around her waist, careful not slide his arm below that little belly ring so as not to tug on it as he helped her down. Her skin was warm and smooth, her waist small, and she smelled like birthday cake, he thought as he held onto her maybe a little tighter than was strictly necessary.

"That's quite a mouth you have there," he said, with honest admiration as he set her down on the floor.

"Stupid fucking thing," she kicked the stool down the aisle and then rubbed at her arm. "Great, now I'm gonna need some kind of fucking shot so I don't die of fucking lock jaw," she sighed as her hand came away with blood. Not too much blood. Sidney had seen more than that drawn between Max and Cookie in practice.

"I don't think you're going to die," he said quietly, turning her slightly, his hand beneath her elbow as he lifted it so he could see the wound. "It's not that deep. Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Jesus, I don't know," she hissed, her dark eyes once again brimming over with tears. Not a high tolerance for pain then, he noted. "If I do it's probably in the house," she mumbled, looking over her shoulder towards a door that he assumed led into the rickety old Victorian behind the store.

"I'll lock the door," he offered, reluctantly letting go of her arm and heading for the front of the store, turning the 'open' sign to read 'closed' and locked the door. He turned to find her dark eyes watching him warily yes, but there was something else in her eyes too, he thought as he walked back toward her, following her as she turned to head through the door behind the counter.

* * *

"You know your way around a bandage," she noted as she watched his skilful fingers first clean the wound and then add ointment before placing gauze over it. Now he was getting ready to cut a bandage using his long, thick fingers to measure the width and length of the wound before he did. Measure once, cut twice.

"I…uh, I've been cut once or twice," he replied sheepishly, pointing out a fresh looking scar on his smooth chin. Tabitha wanted to touch it, to see if the pink scar tissue was raised, if it was as smooth as the rest of his face, but he had one of her hands pressed down to the table and the other one, she was sitting on. That seemed the safest thing to do, considering she'd found many things about him that she wanted to touch as he'd gone about the business of playing doctor.

Like he had ridiculously long, full, and jet black eyelashes, the kind that women were going for when they bought lash blast mascara. Then there was the older, meaner looking scar on is high cheekbones, the kind of sculpted, strong cheekbones that high fashion models paid for. And then there was his smooth skin, or it looked baby smooth on his cheeks where there was only the slightest hint of a five o'clock shadow and she was willing to bet that would last for days before it became anything remotely threatening as far as stubble went.

But mostly, and worst of all, she was completely and utterly distracted by the thickness of his thighs. As soon as he'd sat on the chrome legged, bright blue pleather kitchen chairs straight out of some fifties diner, his shorts had sort of…tugged tight around thighs that could only be described as the size of tree trunks and spoke of absolute power and that…well that made her breathing just a little bit more difficult.

"So…what is it you do where you get cut like that?" she asked, needing the distraction both from enjoying the view and the feel of his gentle touch that seemed to burn her skin. It wasn't better, or worse, than when he'd lifted her down, his arms vice like around her waist. Being held against the width of his chest, his muscular arms holding her close had done something to her brain and his gentle, attentive touches now were keeping her brain in that soft, mushy state even now.

"Umm…," he stuck the tape he was using to finish bandaging her arm in his mouth and used his straight, white teeth to rip off a strip. It also muffled his answer and Tabitha tipped her head to one side and considered the tips of his ears which had turned decidedly pink.

"You didn't say ballet did you?" she asked, fairly sure that that hadn't been his answer but while she was wracking her decidedly distracted brain for occupations that could create muscles like his she'd had a vision of him in a leotard and tights that she couldn't shake.

"No, fuck no. I've got two left feet," he replied, shaking his head as he laughed and she decided that he was incredibly, heartbreakingly handsome when he smiled that way. At least her chest hurt when she watched him duck his head to the side while his entire face lit with amusement. She didn't quite believe him about the two left feet comment though. From what she'd seen so far, he had a certain amount of deliberate grace about his movements that definitely spoke volumes about a high degree of coordination and at least some sort of training that was above and beyond what she, with her sincere lack of coordination, was capable of. "There, that should hold for a while," he said finally, running the pad of his thumb along the seams of the bandage. It was probably overkill, as far as what was required to cover the wound, but she wasn't about to complain, especially now, as he turned his gaze up from the bandage to meet hers' and she found herself looking into a pair of gold laced caramel and green flecked hazel eyes that made her stop breathing altogether.

_Not fair_, she thought to herself as his hand curled around her wrist and his gaze held hers' in a way that made her heart beat double. _I've sworn off men for the summer_, she reminded herself even as she leaned forward, intent on tasting those full, soft looking pink lips of his. She couldn't remember ever being this nervous about kissing a man, at least not since she was, maybe, fourteen. The fact that he was a complete stranger, that he could be an axe murderer for all she knew, didn't stop her body from wanting his, and the fact that he seemed to feel the same wasn't helping, at all.

"I think that's the second time I've heard that bell," she muttered just as his lips were about to touch hers'. At first she'd thought it was that sound you were supposed to hear, bells or music or whatever, but now she knew it was someone being annoying at the door.

"Yeah, you'd uh…you'd better get it," he mumbled, clearing his throat loudly and pushing his chair back with a loud scraping sound as he reached to gather the tape and scissors, putting them back into the first aid kit as if he hadn't just been about a millimeter away from kissing her.

"Yeah, I should," she agreed, heading for the door , pressing her hand over her heart and silently willing it to slow so that she could actually breathe while she just as silently cursed the person on the other side of the door, wishing a plague upon them and half hoping they'd be gone by the time she pulled the door open.

No such luck.

"Delivery for you…ma'am?" the scruffy looking kid with bright red hair in grime covered overalls, barely old enough to have a license Tabitha thought, stood on her front step scratching his head as he looked down at the clipboard in his grubby hand. He looked back up at her, obviously expecting someone else; confusion clear on his freckled face.

"You're looking for _Mr_. King, aren't you?" she asked and he stared down at the paperwork on his metal clipboard and then back up at her, nodding. "Tell your dispatch that it will be _Miss_ King, for now," she smiled as she grabbed the clipboard from him, reading over the paperwork quickly. Fishing line, some rubber glow worms, a couple replacement reels that she had to wonder if they were special orders for some client she had yet to meet and…. "Crickets? Does this say _live_ crickets?" The kid peered down at the sheet she was holding and then smiled broadly and nodded.

"Yes ma'am. Deliver 'em once a week durin' the summer," he added brightly, as if this was good news.

"They're good bait." Tabitha shivered as Patrick's warm breath bathed the back of her neck. He'd crept up behind her and she didn't mind, even if he shanked her right here and now, she decided, she really wouldn't mind.

"What am I supposed to do with them?" she asked, wide eyed as she turned towards the dark haired stranger that made her pulse race.

"If they're like the ones that were here last summer, you just put the individual boxes out on counter and between the kids and the serious fisherman, you'll probably be sold out by the end of the week and you won't have to throw out any dead ones." Tabitha's skinned crawled at the idea of having live insects in the store. Worms and grubs were bad enough, but at least they were in drums or boxes, buried in soil.

"Can't they eat their way out?" she asked, signing on the dotted line and handing the delivery kid back his clipboard.

"I don't think so," Patrick laughed, edging his way past her, tackle box and fishing pole in hand.

"You're going?" she asked, feeling suddenly at a loss without his guidance for the shop and a serious sense of unfinished business between them. She silently willed him to stop walking and when he didn't to turn around to see how furious she was but he did neither. Not until he reached the corner of the house where a big, dark expensive looking SUV was parked.

* * *

"I'll uh…I'll see you around," he said, half waving with his pole in his hand before disappearing around the back of his vehicle, where he promptly pressed his forehead to the cool metal. '_You can't do this, you know you can't get involved with someone you know nothing about'_, he scolded himself as he repeatedly banged his head against the hatch. He'd almost kissed her, and he'd wanted to, badly. '_Talk about saved by the bell'_, he thought grimly as he forced himself to stop physically beating himself up and get about the business of getting the hell away from her and her house and the idea of holding her warm, curvaceous body in his arms.

It was one thing to lie to her, but everyone around here knew who he was and it wouldn't take more than two shakes of a lamb's tail for word to get out that he'd been seen coming out of that house. It would be about two seconds after that when Troy would be having a seizure about his thoughtlessness and his letting his hormones get the better of him. After all, as his father and Mario never stopped reminding him, Sidney Crosby 'the 'brand' couldn't be seen with just any woman. There couldn't be pictures of him like there was of Max, Jordy, Geno …well of just about _any_ of his teammates with their tongues down some random girls' throat. Any woman he did get involved with had to go through a background check as if she was being vetted for the fucking FBI.

But he wanted her. Damn but he wanted her, he knew, as he climbed into the driver's seat and clenched his hands around the wheel. It wasn't just that she smelled good, or that she looked damn near edible in those cut offs. There was something vulnerable about her, beyond her taking care of business outward demeanor that called to him. There was a sensuality about her that promised a passionate nature like his own that piqued his curiosity.

But she was off limits, unless he called his friend Mike Chiasson, a local member of the RCMP detachment, and asked him to do a full background check and sent the information to Pat to approve….

I'm not supposed to be chasing girls, he told himself firmly. No matter how good they smell or how soft their skin is or…or anything.

And he was going to have to find somewhere else to get his bait if he was going to keep that promise he sighed as he threw the car into reverse and headed for the lake.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

She stared at the boxes sitting in the middle of living room still waiting to be unpacked. It would help pass the time, she thought, but on the other hand, the big old house felt too empty and besides, it was making weird noises. It creaked and groaned like an old woman when the wind picked up in the evening and it was beginning to give her a serious case of the willies. She had been too tired by the time she'd arrived the night before to hear all the strange sounds that put her in mind of living in a haunted house, but she didn't feel tired yet, despite all the work she'd done today. She knew if she tried, she'd just end up lying there, staring into the dark, listening to every creak and groan and wondering what manner of axe murderer was about to come tip toeing through the door and crank up a chainsaw.

She also wasn't ready to face the big old fashioned brass bed upstairs with all its' posts and finials. Her grandparents bed, their bedroom, where everything was still just as it had been for years. It looked like they could walk in at any minute and continue their lives, like a shrine, undisturbed. The night before she'd just grabbed a blanket and pillow out of the hall closet and camped out on her old, single bed in the guestroom and she wasn't ready to face that lumpy old mattress yet either.

The place was also musty, stale and layered in dust and after spending all day dusting, cleaning and moving things around in the shop, the last thing Tabby wanted to do was spend more time sneezing and coughing.

What she needed was some fresh air, and to stretch her legs. Normally that meant putting on her high heel boots, her slim jeans and a tank top and heading straight for the Roxy. She assumed if she drove far enough she'd find something like a bar, even a wine bar if she was lucky, but that was the other thing she was sorely in need of – wheels.

There was her grandfather's old pick up, but she didn't feel like hurtling down dark, narrow roads she didn't know in a vehicle she wasn't familiar with and then drowning her sorrows in a few glasses of wine and then trying to find her way back again. She'd probably end up in the bottom of the lake.

So instead, she slipped a soft black cashmere cardigan over her Within Temptation concert tee, pulled on a simple pair of black clam digger length leggings and slid into a pair basic black ballet flats and, iPod in hand, Tabby headed out the front door and down the winding dirt path towards the lake.

You had to get _waaay_ out of Vancouver to see this many stars, she thought as she gazed up at the velvet black sky dotted with what seemed like a million points of light. The moon hung so low in the sky it looked almost like she could reach up and touch it. The nearly full moon also cast a long silver shadow across the lake.

_Romantic_, Tabby mused as she walked towards the end of the dock and glanced around, half expecting to see little row boats full of canoodling couples dotting the lake, but it seemed like she was alone. _All this to myself and no one to share it with_, she sighed and then started to laugh out loud. Since when did she have a romantic bone in her entire body? The closest thing she'd ever had to a relationship was Damon and that hadn't exactly been all roses and champagne. The closest thing she could think of him doing that could be considered romantic was to not pull her under the covers and give her a 'dutch oven'.

As she slipped the ballet flats off and sat down at the end of the dock, wincing as her toes hit the chilly water, Tabby tried to think of the last time anyone did anything romantic for her. Maybe Kev, in high school when he'd tied a balloon to her locker on her birthday. She smiled to herself and leaned back on her hands while she stared up at the sky.

"Amazing what a girl will settle for," she said, laughing out loud.

"I always find it best not to settle when you can strive for more." Tabby froze and felt her heart stop beating in her chest. She looked around, seeing no one, at least not until a hand reached up and placed an old metal tackle box on the dock beside her. She leaned forward and looked down at a jet ski and found Patrick holding a fishing rod up for her to take.

"Jesus Christ! Do you always go around sneaking up on people in the middle of the night?" she asked, reaching out to take the rod while holding her now rapidly beating heart with her other hand. "Doesn't that thing have a fucking engine?"

"It's only ten and I ran out of gas a while ago. Do you have any idea how hard it is to row this thing with a fucking fishing rod?" He looked pissed and for some reason that made her want to laugh. She put his fishing rod down and then covered her mouth with his hand so he wouldn't see her smile.

"Gee, I'm sorry about that," she managed but couldn't quite keep the laughter out of her voice.

"I've been stuck out here for at least two hours," he grimaced, reaching up put both of his arms onto the dock and he looked so pissed that she couldn't help smiling and now it took both hands to try and cover up the fact that she was laughing at him.

"Don't you carry a cell?" she asked as he pushed up on his hands, his shoulders and then his entire torso appeared over the dock and suddenly it wasn't so funny. It was…breathtaking. Even with the bright orange life vest on (safety first) the sight of his round, muscular shoulders and every single sinew, muscle and vein straining in his arms literally caused her to hold her to feel faint.

"I dropped it, my hands are cold," he muttered, his knee now on the dock, shortly followed by the rest of them. He lay there at her feet, on his stomach, his eyes closed for long enough for Tabby to start to wonder if she should be running back to the house and calling for help, which she realized wouldn't be much help, if the phone in the house hadn't been activated yet. Taking off her sweater, she went to wrap it around his shoulders but just as she did, he sat up and shook like a wet dog sending out a spray of …of she wasn't sure what. Sweat? Water? Both?

"Why didn't you just swim in?" He looked like he could have beaten the lake into submission with the size of his biceps but he shook his head, again sending out a fine spray of what she hoped was water.

"It's kinda heavy to drag in and I wasn't going to just leave it out there," he said sternly, as if that was that and there was no other possible answer.

"Uh huh, because hypothermia is worth the price of a skidoo," she mumbled, seeing the gooseflesh on his arms and deciding he did need her sweater after all.

* * *

"Sea doo not skidoo; skidoos are for snow," he corrected her, softening his voice as he finally dragged himself to his feet while he gently pushed the offer of her sweater away. "You're not much of an outdoor girl are you?" he added with a side long glance at Tabby who was slipping back into her sweater. So much for avoiding her, he thought as he took in the lines of her legs wrapped tightly in the dark leggings, admiring the way the thin material hugged her ass.

"I like looking at it, if that helps," she sighed, now crossing her arms over her ample chest, which was too bad, but at least it stopped him from staring at the way the picture on the front of her t-shirt tugged across her breasts.

"Yeah well, I guess sometimes it is overrated," he mumbled, reminding himself to get a grip as he turned back to make sure he'd tied up the seadoo before ripping off the floatation vest that had begun to chafe. "Do you think I could make a call?" he asked, glancing back at her hands, looking for a purse or pockets where she might be keeping a phone.

"I'm not sure if the phone's hooked up in the house yet," she sighed and glanced over her shoulder at the big old house sitting up on the rock overlooking them. It seemed like she'd left every light in the house on and for some reason that made Sid smile. Taylor did that sometimes, when she was home by herself, turn on every light in the house. She said it made her feel less 'vulnerable'. He let his gaze roam over the defensive stance Tammy was holding and wondered if it was the same with her in that big old place all on her own. "But I plugged in my cell before I came down. It should be charged up by now." She slipped her small feet into the shoes sitting on the edge of the dock and then turned and headed down the dock, her arms still hugged around her like she was cold.

Part of him thought that it might be a bad idea to be alone with her, in that big empty house, but the alternative meant catching his death trying to walk back to someone else's house, and he'd never hear the end of that from his father. So, shrugging his shoulders, he padded after her in his bare feet, actually having to take a few jogging steps to keep up with her.

As she headed up the goat path that lead up to the house, Sid found himself staring at her ass in those skin tight leggings, all kinds of x-rated thoughts forming in his head. No, no, he told himself. All he was doing was getting warm and making a call and then he was going to have to hear it from his dad all the way home about not checking the gas gage before going out on the lake.

He was internally wincing at that thought and almost missed her as she stumbled and fell backwards, right into his arms. They both froze, her body stiff as a board in his arms and he, half startled and half far too aware of her heady scent and the brush of her breasts against his arms left him afraid to move and holding his breath, waiting for her to what…? Was she going to lean back into him? Relax into his arms and turn her head and kiss him the way he'd wanted to kiss her earlier in the day.

Shutting his eyes tightly against the image of her lips drawing towards his, Sidney did his best to stay completely still until she made a move. '_You don't know that she's attracted to you, you idiot'_ he reprimanded himself silently as she remained immobile in his arms.

"You…okay?" he asked tentatively, as she got her feet beneath her, her back still toward him as if she was afraid to face him and he was glad about that considering he could feel the heat in his face and it wasn't as if he'd touched anything on purpose .

"Fine, yeah…good," she muttered and continued ahead, her head down now, scanning the ground at her feet. Sidney watched her for a moment, wanting to call out to her, to explain that if he'd done anything, touched anything he hadn't meant to. Except she wasn't accusing him of anything and maybe, just maybe, he told himself, she'd felt the same sort of electricity running between them. Maybe she'd waited for him to make a move and he'd blown his chance.

'_Or maybe she'd just been catching her breath and you're an idiot'_, he sighed, shaking his head and grinning at his own internal monologue before putting his head down and trudging up the path, silently, behind her.

* * *

Tabby's hands shook as she searched through her grandfather's things to see if she could find something that would fit Patrick. With one ear to the door she listened to the timbre of his voice without actually eavesdropping on the conversation he was having.

She could still feel the solid wall of his chest against her back, the vice like grip of his arms around her, and for the second time that day she was furiously denying that she'd felt anything more than that, like an electric current that had felt like a lightning bolt going through her from head to foot when his arms had circled her. Or when his breath on the back of her neck had made her stomach clench, or when his hand had brushed her nipple and she'd forgotten to breathe?

'_I'm not here to fall for anyone. I'm not here to get involved with some guy. I'm not feeling anything'_, she told herself over and over again like a mantra as she unfolded and refolded sweaters and work shirts until she found one of her grandfather's original Hawaiian print shirts. With a chuckle she draped that over her arm and grabbed an old, well worn pair of army issue Bermuda shorts and headed back down stairs, pausing at the landing to hear if he was finished his conversation yet.

"The old house at the end of the lake, the one behind the bait shop," he was saying, and she took two steps backward up the stairs so he wouldn't see her. "No, there's a woman living here…granddaughter…does it matter? Can you just come get me?" There was silence and then she heard him heave a huge sigh. "Yeah, I know, but it's fine…just…just trust me on this. I'll see you in a bit okay?"

Tabby waited, her back pressed to the wall, waiting for more, hating to intrude on his private conversation, even if she didn't really follow it other than to know whomever he was talking to was asking a hell of a lot of questions. When she heard nothing more for at least a minute, she cautiously continued down the stairs and nearly tripped, again, when she saw that he'd taken off his t-shirt, leaving his sculpted, heavily muscled torso bare to her greedy eyes. '_Well of course he did'_, she chided herself. It had been soaked right through. He was probably freezing.

"I found some things," she began, holding them out toward him, not knowing where to look. His obvious six pack drew her gaze like a magnet, but his broad, round shoulders and the smooth, bare skin of his chest were distractions in and of themselves. "I think they might fit. My grandfather was a…when he was younger he was…fit," she managed. '_How do you say your grandfather was hot like you when he was probably your age_', she thought, meeting his gaze with what she hoped was a plea not to ask for more of an explanation than that. Patrick took the shirt and held it up in front of him, a bemused look on his face. "It's authentic. He got it…I don't know when but…a long time ago when he was in the navy," she explained, holding the shorts out for him to take. "They're a bit tattered at the seams but, they'll do until you get home," she added to which he nodded gratefully.

"I doubt these will fit," he mumbled, looking prejudicially down at the shorts and Tabby had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

"He was a…a runner and a boxer and…he…," she shut her eyes tight, searching mentally for some other words other than '_had a huge ass like yours'_. "He was muscular…down…there," she managed before turning bright red and immediately turning her back on him, finding something in one of the boxes nearby that she could fiddle with so she didn't have to look at him. "If it's one thing that works in this house, it's the water pressure. You can have a hot shower if you want…. I mean to warm up. That is if you have time before your friend comes to pick you up," she added, stammering over her words. The thought of him being naked in this house, with only the threat of his friend showing up to keep her from climbing into the shower with him was almost too much.

"Thanks…I think my dad will be here in about twenty so…thanks," he repeated and he heard him walking towards her. Her hands gripped the first thing she could pull out of the box, and felt the edge of a metal picture frame bite into the palm of her hand. "Is the bathroom upstairs?" he asked, and she nodded, still refusing to look up at him, almost sure that if she did, a mixture of hormones and pure, unadulterated lust would take over her brain and she'd be begging him to fuck her senseless.

She listened to him heading up the stairs and let go of the picture frame once she heard the door click shut above her head. Looking down at her hand, Tabby saw she'd drawn blood and quickly headed back to the kitchen for the first aid kit, again.

* * *

Sid leaned one hand on the bubble gum pink tile, steaming hot water pouring over his back and stroked his Johnson slowly with the other. His eyes squeezed shut, the image of Tabby on her knees with his cock between her full pink lips, her long dark hair wound around his hand, fucking her mouth and hearing her make sounds of pleasure that made him even harder filling his head.

He imagined her nude, his full breasts swinging and bouncing gently as her head bobs back and forth on his dick, her fingers wrapped around the base of it, her other fingernails digging into his ass. His mouth falls open, and he lets loose a soundless gasp as the orgasm grips him, shooting his wad against the wall as he imagines her wrapping her tongue around his cock, sucking him deep into her mouth, her dark eyes gazing up at him, alight with desire.

Panting, he leans his forehead against the wall and groans quietly. '_How in the hell has this woman, that I've known for less than a day gotten into my head'_, he asks himself as he finally turns his face up into the hot water, letting it run over his face, into his mouth and down his chest. He wanted her. With everything in his very being, he wanted to go downstairs, pin her to the wall, pull her legs up around his waist and drive his cock balls deep into her pussy. He wanted to hear her whimper. He wanted to fist his hands in her hair and taste her lips and lick her tonsils and have her sigh into his mouth.

'_Get a fucking grip'_, he told himself firmly, reaching down to turn off the water. '_Put those clothes on and get the fuck out of this house and away from her before you lose your fucking self'_, he instructed himself as he reached for a towel and dragged it roughly over his head and down his chest. The problem with that was he was now imagining her here, nude, in this shower, with water running over her full breasts and he had to shake his head and replace that image with one of Dupers hairy back to make it disappear.

It was only when he was doing that that he realized he could hear voices and not just hers' but another voice, a man's voice….

Troy!

Sidney quickly toweled himself off and neatly folded the towel back up and put it on the rack, grabbing the shorts she'd offered him and gave them a dubious look.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, stepping into them and pulling them up slowly, waiting for that moment when they'd stop moving, when his skater thighs would be too big or his ass…. "Huh…whaddya know?" Pleasantly surprised to find that she was a good judge of his size, he buttoned the well worn, army drab shorts and then reached for the brightly coloured red and orange printed shirt. It was kind of a cool shirt, he thought as he pulled it on, but he didn't have time to admire it. She was alone, with his father, downstairs and she didn't deserve that.

Jogging down the stairs, he practically slid to a stop in front of her, giving his dad that look that said he hoped he hadn't been interrogating the poor girl. Troy, in his turn, only raised an eyebrow, the universal signal for 'now would I?'

"Ready to go?" Troy asked and Sidney nodded, grabbing his t-shirt from the back of the dust cloth covered sofa. "Thanks again for rescuing my son. It was a pleasure meeting you," Troy smiled a little too warmly at Tabby, who, in turn, grinned warmly back at him. Sid stood between them, looking from one to the other, wanting to ask, but not daring to.

"I'll umm, have these dry cleaned and bring them back to you," Sid offered, but Tabby shook her head.

"What am I going to do with them? They'll just be going to good will anyway," she smiled, maybe a little wistfully and he wondered if she could see her grandfather in the clothes and if she could, if it hurt or made her sad, but he wouldn't let himself meet her gaze, half afraid she'd be able to read the lust he was feeling for her in his eyes. "Well then ummm, okay. Thanks for the shower and I guess I'll see you around." He turned and headed towards the door, feeling like she and his father were sharing some silent joke behind his back, but he kept moving anyways.

Once outside, he felt Troy's big hand on his shoulder.

"That's a good looking woman you got there partner," his father said and Sid stiffened at the amused sound of his father's voice.

"She was just letting me use her shower. I was stuck out on the lake for hours and…."

"And you didn't notice what a nice rack she has? C'mon son, I didn't raise a stooge," Troy mused as he walked around the car to the driver's side. "You were thinking of any reason to come back and see her," he added, leaning on the roof of the car and grinning across it at his son. Sidney only shrugged. What would be the point in lying about it? "Hey, I'm not blaming you. That's a perky little filly, all alone in that big old house, all sad over her grandfather passing…," Troy let his voice fade as Sid began to get angry and made no attempt at all at hiding his feelings from his father. He felt immediately protective of her, defensive, possessive even.

"It's not like that," he muttered but his father only laughed as he slid behind the wheel.

"Sure son. Sure. And if you haven't tapped that by the end of the summer, I'll be a monkey's uncle," his father guffawed as he cranked the big car to life and Sidney slid silently into the passenger seat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

She'd tossed and turned all night, the haunting sounds of the house settling in the cool darkness mixed with an uncomfortable fever that had her body flushed and aching. Though she tried to shut out the images of that boy with his strong arms and his lips like two pieces of hubba bubba bubble gum that called out to be bitten and chewed, every time she shut her eyes, he was there, tempting her fingers to explore the valleys and ridges of his six pack, feel his lips closing over her nipple, his gold flecked tiger's eyes looking up at her, telling her that he could be the best she'd ever had.

Twice she had woken up, her spine bowing with the strength of an orgasm brought on by only thoughts of his body invading hers, his arms holding her to him, his lips on her neck. Both times she'd lain awake staring out the window, blinking in disbelief. Even Damon, who had been accomplished in matters of the bedroom, had always needed to use clitoral stimulation to make her orgasm at all. No man had ever just made her fall, screaming over the edge with only his body moving inside of hers', never mind having actually never felt him at all….

Half exhausted from the sensational and yet troubling dreams that had kept her from achieving any kind of rest, Tabby had dragged herself off of the lumpy little mattress in the guest room and found herself staring out at the lake at the first golden rays of sunlight reaching over and through the trees. She recited the colours to herself as her gaze scanned the horizon: ochre, mango, saffron and lemon over celery, mint, myrtle and shamrock.

She hadn't painted just for the sake of it for…well probably not since the last summer she'd spent here and that had just been to pass, what had seemed like then, an eternity of time. Now her hands itched to hold a brush and capture this beautiful morning on canvas. The only question was were her paints still here and if they were, were they dried up beyond use?

Tabby practically ran down the stairs, through the house and into the basement. If she was going to capture it she had to do it before the sun entirely broke the tree line.

Her fingertips danced over the boxes downstairs. Magazine, books, summer linens, winter linens…it seemed like her gradmother had kept everything but….

**Tabitha's art supplies**.

Tabby grinned and sent up a silent thank you to her grandmother as she peeled back the lid of the box to find rolls of primed linen canvas, and both oil and watercolour paints. She squeezed the watercolour tubes but found all of them hard, the aluminum tubes cracking along the seams, so those were out. Oil paints could always be revived and she reached for a bottle of lime green but her fingers were suddenly around a box marked "pastels".

Fast, and less fussy, they had been her favorites once. She hadn't worked with them in a long time but she found herself grinning as she picked up a couple of the rolls, and put the box of pastels under her arm and then turned to look into the dim corner of the room to find her old easel still standing in shadows. Closing her eyes she sent up another quick thank you and then grabbed it too before heading back up the stairs to find an old shirt to wear as a smock.

This was going to be a messy business.

* * *

Sidney's hand, clenched into a fist, paused as his knuckles were about to brush the door. She'd said she hadn't wanted the clothes back. It was going to be painfully obvious that he was prepared to use any old excuse to see her and yet….

He knocked on the door and waited. It was early and yet the sign on the bait shop door said it should have been open for an hour by now. Sidney knocked again and leaned against the door, listening for signs of life inside.

Nothing.

He told himself to go back to his vehicle, get in and drive home but what he did was walk around the side of the house, and looked intp the dining room window. He felt like a peeping tom. Hell, he felt like a stalker, and yet, he pressed his face to the glass and shadowed his eyes with his hand and stared into the house looking for some sign, no, fuck that, any sign of life.

She'd haunted his dreams. Time and again he'd woken up, bathed in sweat, her name on his lips and as soon as the first rays of the sun had crawled across his bed, he'd been up, dressed and retrieving her grandfather's clothes from his dryer.

He could hear Max and Tanger laughing at him now. They'd be telling him he had no game and he knew it was true. Problem was, he'd never really had to develop the whole charm offensive that Max had and the whole shy boy hiding behind his hair wasn't something he could pull off with a straight face like Tanger did.

Besides, if they could see her….

He caught sight of movement at the back of the house, the living room he thought and for just a moment he thought – intruder and his adrenalin spiked, his pulse began to race as he jogged around the side of the house to the deck that overlooked the lake. And then he froze, his breath literally caught in his throat as he stared at the scene in front of him.

There's something about a woman wearing a man's shirt. It either says that she's teasing you, that she's taken your shirt and she has something amazing underneath or that the sex was so good she stayed the night and has nothing else to wear. Either way, it's just sexy and seeing her, standing there on the deck, her long, bare legs peeking out from beneath the crisp hem of the light coloured striped shirt, the arms rolled up to her elbows, stole his breath away, even with the smudges of…was that paint, that even went down onto her thighs. The early morning light, the sun just topping the trees at the far end of the lake, made it entirely obvious that she wasn't wearing anything at all beneath the shirt and he stumbled as he topped the last stair, which caused him to reach out and grab the railing, which was loose and creaked as he leaned into it.

She spun on the ball of her naked foot and he froze again, expecting a barrage of 'what are you doing here's' and 'how dare you come sneaking up on me's' but instead she too froze, wearing an expression on her face that was eerily reminiscent of a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and Sidney had a moment to wonder if he was wearing a similar expression, until he got a look at the canvas she'd been working on.

For a moment he wasn't sure what he was looking at, and then, as he took a couple more steps toward her and the painting, he realized it was his own likeness he was looking at, though he was dressed more like…was that a knight in chain mail, with his helmet under one arm, a fainting beauty in his other arm, her dress slightly torn, her heaving bosom nearly bare to his obviously appreciative gaze.

"I was just…I was sketching the sun rise and…," she grabbed another, smaller canvas from the where it was leaning against the rail and placed it carefully in front of the picture that was all dark colours and brooding emotions and while both were good, technically, he supposed, the smaller one looked more like something he could see his mother hanging in their living room. It showed the light breaking through the trees and caressing the lake, dotting it with light and dark and it was good, very, very good.

But there was still the question of the other canvas…..

"And?" he asked, prompting her with a raise of his eyebrow while she blushed and turned away.

* * *

"I do marketing artwork…cover pieces for Harlequin," she mumbled, feeling both ashamed of what she did for a living after feeling so inspired by the beauty of the sunrise and the lake, but also embarrassed at being caught putting his likeness in a piece when she didn't know him at all. Once or twice she'd done it, used a one night stand for inspiration, but usually the wan and pale guys that she went for weren't exactly the brawny, strapping, tanned types that Harlequin wanted for the covers of their bodice rippers. Apparently the only men that women who read those kinds of things desired were six foot four, muscle bound pirates and cowboys. Though Patrick didn't exactly fit that bill…he was way closer than anything she'd been attracted to in years.

And she _was_ attracted to him. Even as he stood there in a pair of dark green shorts that were too baggy for her taste and came down almost to his knees along with a t-shirt that was clearly too big for him, hiding all of that lovely, smooth skin that poured over his musculature like a thin layer of sweet syrup, it was almost all she could do not to drool. And this wasn't like her at all. She wasn't normally the kind of girl whose knees got weak at the sight of a man. Normally it took a combination of confidence, a certain kind of smile, a swagger and a great sense of humor before she would get that wobbly feeling around a guy but now there was no denying just how much this guy had gotten into her head. The proof was on the canvas in front of her.

"And that _is_ me, right?' he asked, coming closer to her and to the canvas, his gaze scanning it before he gave her a, wary, sideways glance. Tabby opened her mouth to explain, but quickly shut it again and just nodded instead. What could she say? Part of what Harlequin wanted was realism and if he could tell that it was his own likeness he was looking at, was there any point in denying it?

"You have great…cheekbones," she muttered, feeling that tell tale heat under her skin as she picked up her box of pastels and busied herself putting them away, in order of hue, as she tried to get her hormones and her temperature under control.

"So this is some kind of…knight in shining armor thing?" he asked, an amused lilt to his voice that made her cringe. Silently she cursed Walt Disney for their endless lines of princesses being saved by handsome princes. It wasn't her fault if that was the lie that every little girl was raised on.

"It's an _illustration_," she corrected him, hoping to put some distance between the obvious meaning in the picture before them and her own desire to have him scale the wall of her castle and rip off her chastity belt.

"And who is this?" he asked, his fingertips almost brushing the canvas as he pointed at the fainting woman in the picture, who, Tabby was relieved that she had given flaming red hair.

"It's just a picture," she insisted again, reaching for hem of the shirt she was wearing, which was the first time she had thought about exactly what she was wearing, or not wearing, since she'd realized she wasn't alone. She stood there, staring down at her hands that were covered in greasy pastel and then down at her _very_ bare legs. Well, they were bare other than where she'd already wiped her hands. There hadn't been any turpentine and….

"Here," he thrust a ball of material into her hands and Tabby found herself staring into the middle of that smooth skinned, sculpted chest and she swallowed, audibly before forcing herself to look up and smile.

"Th…thanks," she stuttered, glancing at the label, hoping for fruit of the loom but finding Lucky Brand on the label. Not exactly your ten dollar t-shirt. She wanted to hand it back to him, but she could see grey and blue fingerprints on it already and knew it was too late. "This…this doesn't generally come out," she sighed, staring down at the greasy prints her hands had already left behind, knowing full well if she use his t-shirt to wipe off what was on her arms and legs that the t-shirt would be well beyond saving.

"I'll just put this back on," he smiled, retrieving her grandfather's Hawaiian shirt from the deck rail and part of Tabby wanted to beg him not to. A vision was already forming in her head of some kind of Tarzan character wearing just a loin cloth and swinging down to grab a terrified looking Jane…. "And you'd better get something…more on than that too," he suggested, and when she glanced up at him in horror, he was grinning but not in a lewd way. "The bait shop?" he gently reminded her and Tabby's hand flew up to her forehead, no doubt leaving behind more greasy marks.

"Oh for the love of Pete," she muttered, deciding instead to use his t-shirt to gently grab the edges of the smaller canvas and carry it inside, fully intending to go back out and use it again to carry in the larger one, but as soon as she'd turned around he was right there behind her, using her grandfather's Hawaiian shirt in the same way. "But…but now you've got nothing…," her voice failed her as she watched him gently lean the larger picture against the wall before standing back to consider it again, his thumb and forefinger curled around his chin as one arm rested on the other. Now he looked like that bronze sculpture, the Thinker, his shoulders wide, his muscles flexed. She stood, staring, or rather, appreciating the view long enough for him to notice and, raising his eyebrow but not even turning to her, he said.

"I've got clothes I can change into at home," he mused as he gazed at the picture of her swooning in his arms. "I'm guessing you'll have lost some clients already. You'd better hurry," he added with a playful glance in her direction.

"Yeah…right, clothes," she muttered, forcing herself to turn away from the visually stunning sight before her and run up the stairs.

* * *

More than a few eyebrows were raised in his direction when he walked out of the locked bait shop as she turned to go back inside to deal with the first rush of fishermen who were already grumbling about missing the best biting time. It was likely that she neither understood nor realized the implications of his leaving her house half dressed at this time in the morning but Sidney couldn't help but allow himself a private, little grin.

If there was anyone else in town with designs on Tabitha King, he'd just erased them and he hadn't even meant to.

No, that wasn't quite right, he told himself. He meant to do it alright. In fact, he'd decided almost as soon as he'd seen the phantom lines of her body beneath that old shirt that she would be his by the end of the summer; his and his alone. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was about this girl that was driving him so fucking crazy but she was and now at least he could be pretty sure that as much as she was haunting his thoughts…well, he was certainly in hers'.

Grinning from ear to ear and clearly pleased with himself, Sidney got into his SUV and pulled out his phone. There weren't a lot of good restaurants in the area, but there were one or two, and he was going to make a reservation, tonight, for two.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

She heard the damned bell over the damn door dingling again and checked her watch. This day had been far too long and far too weird. If they hadn't been giving her these knowing, strange little smiles, the customers had been giving her dirty looks all day. It was fucking weird and she'd had enough of it for one day. She'd just about mustered the courage to ask the last of the old guys to come back with his little tin pail, empty and cleaned out thank god, but it didn't seem like he could beat a path out of the store fast enough. She'd been ready to turn the sign around there and then and go into the house to hide under a pile of pillows and a comforter or two, but that damned bell….

"Oh, it's you." Could you be happy and disappointed to see someone at the same time? Her body lit up like a candle to see those hazel eyes, those full, soft pink lips and those wickedly high cheekbones. At the same time, she wanted very much to hide behind the counter and pretend she'd never seen him. She'd had a cat once that did that. He would hide behind something that didn't exactly hide him completely but as long as he couldn't see you he'd been pretty sure he was invisible. Tabby longed for that same ability to wish him away but when she took a deep breath and forced herself to look up into those hazel eyes, her knees almost gave way beneath her.

"I'm sorry if I offended you earlier," he began, much to her surprise. "I mean if I offended you're artistic sensibilities," he added, as if it was an afterthought, which also made her take a step back and force down the girly, bouncy, happy feelings that had begun to bubble toward the surface.

"It's a job," she reiterated in what she hoped was a cold and disinterested voice as she opened the till and took the money drawer and placed it beside the adding machine on the counter. He didn't seem to take the hint though, even when she pulled out a handful of bills and started counting. "Fine," she snapped, grabbing an elastic band and putting it around the pile of blue five dollar bills. "I'll put a goatee or a mustache or something on it, is that what you're fishing for?" She looked up to see if this promise would be good enough to make him disappear so that she could stop shaking as she tried to count through the pile of purple ten dollar bills in the tray but they kept sticking together. It really wasn't fair, him standing there in what looked like it would be a soft grey cashmere sweater, looking boyishly handsome, as if butter wouldn't melt, as innocent as a child.

"I don't want you to change anything." His hand was suddenly wrapped around her wrist and Tabby stared down at his hand and then at the muscular forearm that was forcing his fingers to clamp down on her arm like a vice. It should have made her angry, but her brain immediately went to a place where he had her pinned to a bed, his body pressing her down into the mattress and his lips…oh god, those lips….. "I'm flattered," he said more quietly, his grip loosening until she looked up into his solemn gaze. He was wearing an expression that aged him at least ten years but it also made her believe him too. "Which is why I'm here, " he added even more quietly as an older man with a beard and one of those tractor hats the locals seemed to favor came in the door, making that damn bell jingle.

Patrick quickly withdrew his hand and Tabby wasn't sure but she thought he looked vaguely guilty as he stepped back from the counter. She narrowed her eyes at him but kept the question that immediately leapt to her lips to herself and instead craned her neck and beamed a friendly smile towards the would-be customer.

"I'm closed, sorry," she called out and though the man gave them a suspicious once over, he tipped his hat graciously and headed out the door, sending the bell jingling again. She made a mental note to take that thing down. "Jumpy much?" she asked, keeping her voice low and even as she went back to counting the bills in front of her.

"It's a small town," he shrugged, as if that were explanation enough. Tabby thought about pointing out that he'd been seen leaving this very spot in the early hours of the day but decided not to bring it up. She reminded herself that she was supposed to still be angry at him about that. "Anyway," he brightened, "I came bearing a peace offering." Tabby looked up at the sound of something substantial hitting the counter. It was an old fashioned picnic basket, dark woven willow with a blue and white checkered cloth sticking out of the edges. It sounded full. Tabby raised her eyebrow at him and then went back to counting the takings.

* * *

He'd known the minute he'd phoned to make the reservation that it had been a mistake. The maitre d' had known his voice immediately and had sounded just a little too happy to be of service and Sidney had developed a major case of cold feet as far as actually going public with Tabby was concerned. Not that he was ashamed to be seen with her, far from it. No, it was that niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach that he always had when it came to women – 'does she really like _me_?' And by me he meant the boy from Cole Harbor not young millionaire NHL superstar, Sidney Crosby and he knew if he took her to that restaurant, his cover would be blown and he might never have the chance to find that out.

So, he'd had the restaurant make up the picnic basket instead. He hadn't really been thinking of it as a more romantic alternative. Not until he'd walked in to see her in that strapless little black and white gingham summer dress, belted tight around her small waist, flaring gently over her hips. She didn't belong in and amongst the lures and worms. She belonged in that restaurant, but he was happy to have her all to himself…that was if she was even going to talk to him.

"I thought maybe we could spread the blanket at the end of the dock?" he suggested and thought he could see the see the hint of a smile at the corners of her full mouth. It was a small sign of forgiveness and it gave him hope.

"Oh you did, did you?" she put a small handful of bills into an envelope and put the rest back in the tray, sliding it back into the register. "I suppose I have to eat sometime," she continued, turning to head into the house through the back door before turning back to him with a raised eyebrow, her dark eyes dancing with amusement. "Well, are you going to lock that door and come with me or what?"

Sid found himself laughing as he strode to the front door, throwing the lock on it and turning the sign around to read closed. That feeling in his gut was gone, uncertainty replaced by a nervous sort of excitement. He even found himself wiping a sweaty palm down the thighs of his jeans as he made his way into the old house, the basket of wine and food in his other hand.

She was standing out on the deck with her back to him and Sid found himself staring at those legs of hers' again, noticing the way she crossed one ankle over the other and the back foot bounced to the rhythm of some unheard beat as she leaned over the railing, her eyes scanning the horizon as the sun began to sink towards the top of the tree line. Sidney froze in the doorway as Tabby reached back to gather her long dark hair up into a ponytail, shoving one of those sckrunchy thing over the mass of silken darkness, revealing an elaborate tattoo that seemed to cover most of what he could see of her back.

"That _must_ have hurt," he mumbled, not really meaning to say it out loud, but knew he did when her hands paused in pulling her hair through the elastic and slowly turned to face him.

"Not after a while," she admitted with a sly sort of smile. "I forget that it's even there to tell the truth," she admitted with a half a shrug.

"Can I…can I see it?" he asked ands she nodded, pulling her pony tail over her shoulder and turning to give him her back. Sid closed the distance between them in two strides and set the basket down at her feet before reaching out, with every intention to run his fingertips along the spidery lines of the wings that spread out over her shoulder blades, except that his hands began to shake and he couldn't quite make himself lay his hands on her skin. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin as the last rays of the day's sun poured over her shoulders and it was almost like holding his hands out to a campfire. "Wh...what is it?" he asked instead, taking a step back so that the sweet, almost sugary scent of her skin was not quite as overwhelming.

"It's a Manitou," she said simply as she let her hair drop back over the lines swimming in front of his eyes. "It's a native thing…well, it's sort of a Manitou and a Celtic fairy at the same time. You know, mixed together, kind of like a representation of my heritage," she explained, heading towards the stairs that lead down to the dock. She turned when she stood on the first stair and his breathing stopped entirely as her gaze slid down his body, slowly, very slowly and then just as slowly her gaze made its' way back up to meet his again. "You coming?" she asked, and then, without waiting for a reply, she turned and headed down the stairs and out of his sight.

'You can't handle her', he told himself bluntly. He could hear Max in his head, laughing and telling him that she was '_way too much woman_' for him and yet, he felt a goofy sort of grin spread across his face as he headed down the stairs after her. He didn't live by believing that he couldn't do things. Can't wasn't in his vocabulary.

* * *

Tabby licked her fingers before using a napkin. It seemed like a waste to lose even a single morsel of the scrumptious food from the basket. When he'd first opened the basket she'd expected, cheese and crackers, maybe a sandwich or two. What she hadn't expected was an eighty dollar bottle of wine, brie and goat cheese, cold chicken, honeyed figs, grapes, strawberries and for desert, bite size chocolate dipped cheesecakes. She'd tried to eat like a bird, but the food had just been too damn good. But now, as she looked at him over the serviette she was embarrassed to find him watching her with some obvious amusement.

"I don't remember if I even ate today," she tried to explain, but he only smiled and reached forward to offer her another of those chocolate covered squares of fattening, creamy goodness. She told herself not to but it was far too tempting not to press her lips around his fingers and take it from him. Was it her imagination or did his eyes go a little wider? Did he stop breathing for just a moment as her lips withdrew from his fingers?

"I actually prefer it when girls don't play that game, say they aren't hungry, they'll just have a side salad or something and then they eat half of my order," he grinned, picking up his real, crystal glass and sipping at the chilled white wine that almost tasted of peaches she thought and that made her think of how his tongue might taste, what with the strawberries he'd just been eating and now that wine….

"At least you didn't do that thing that most men do," she replied, shaking her head when he went to pick up another treat from the plate, but smiled as he picked up a strawberry instead and inserted it carefully in between her teeth. She bit off half of the ripe, red fruit and left the other half for him. He popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"Burp…fart?" he asked after a moment's thought.

"No," she laughed and ducked her head to one side. Why was it so embarrassing to have him say that? "So many guys…they just fill their faces, scooping the food into their mouths like they're never going to have another meal in their lives…. It's disgusting." She wrinkled her nose as she thought of some of the half starved musicians she'd dated. Of course it might have been that they really hadn't eaten in a week.

"I know what you mean. Even some of the guys…the guys I work with…yeah, it's like get a shovel already," he agreed as he leaned back on his strong arms and stared up at the sky that had already turned that deep velvet navy colour of darkness, lit by what seemed like a million stars. "This is a good spot. You must enjoy it here," he added suddenly and Tabby gazed up at the sky and had to admit, it was very, very pretty.

"I do…and I don't. I can't get used to the silence," she practically whispered, as if she was half afraid some beehive wearing librarian was going to come out of nowhere with a meter stick to shush her. "I guess I'm just a city girl at heart," she admitted, still staring up at the sky while she reached for another ripe, juicy strawberry, only to find his hand there. She froze, her heart ceasing to beat altogether until she heard his childlike laugh as he slid his hand from beneath hers' and picked up the last strawberry.

"Share?" he asked and she nodded. He slide the red fruit between his full pink lips and bit into it with his straight white teeth and Tabby thought she was going to have a stroke. It was sinful how fucking sexy that was. She had to swallow hard just to open her mouth to take the rest of the fruit as he offered it to her. '_You started it'_ she told herself firmly, '_you can't be mad at him if he teases you right back'_. "So, you're not from here," he continued, as if they hadn't just been feigning sex faces at one another.

"No," she furrowed her brow, trying to remember what, if anything she might have already told him. "I came here…I don't remember, a few summers I guess," she explained, suddenly self conscious about her teeth being stained red, looking like something off of True Blood.

"Yeah, I thought I would have remembered…," he began and then turned to her, swinging his whole body around so that he was sitting cross legged on the edge of the blanket across the basket from her. "But you said you were here…I mean _here_," he pointed at the very spot they were now sitting on, "during the summer?" Tabby nodded and then shrugged.

"Well…probably not during the day," she admitted, glancing back at the big old house and the bay window from which she'd watched those endless summers go by. "I'd have been up there, most days," she pointed at the bedroom window and then got down on her stomach to trail her fingertips through the cold, dark liquid below the dock. "I usually only came down here at night, by myself," she recalled with a smile. "I like to swim," she admitted, her voice low as she remembered walking out to this spot in the utter darkness, alone, barefoot. "I just wasn't ever much of a believer in swim suits." She glanced over at where he was now lying on his stomach next to her. She wasn't sure how, or when he'd got there but she saw the vision of her, standing on this very spot, naked as a the day she was born and she couldn't help but giggle, just a little, as his eyes widened. "I mean, pools, yeah but rivers, lakes? C'mon," she added, giggling as he swallowed audibly.

"So last night…were you…when I got here were you…?" His voice trailed away and she knew he couldn't clear the vision out of his head and she wondered if she wanted him to. His gaze fell on her mouth and for the second…maybe the third time since she'd met him, Tabby wondered if Patrick was going to kiss her. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers' as he pulled her closer to him and suddenly she couldn't feel the rough old timbers beneath them. She thought she could have been on a bed of pillows…pillows like his lips and…

"**Kowabunga**!"

Something large and dark flew over top of them and canon balled into the lake, sending a shower of freezing cold water cascading over them both and Tabby heard herself screeching at the top of her lungs.

* * *

Sidney felt as if he could have committed murder and there wouldn't have been a court in the land that would have convicted him in that moment.

They'd been talking about getting naked. He'd been about to kiss her. Maybe they would have made love, right there in the dark on the dock. Maybe they'd have gone skinny dipping and got up on some mud bank and had amazing, mind altering, universe shifting sex. Now he'd never know, because his 'friend' Max was bobbing to the surface of the lake, a fountain of water erupting from between his lips before he grinned up at them.

"Your dad said we might find you here," Max smiled broadly, as if he knew exactly what he'd done and thought it hilarious.

"Did he?" Sidney pursed his lips and added patricide to his to do list for the rest of the evening because he knew damn well, even if he told Max exactly what it was he was interrupting that the furry Frenchman wouldn't care. "And who's we?"

"Mon ami, you don't think Max could find his way here tout seul?" Sid shut his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. The Francaphone funny boys, great, just great.

"I should've known," he muttered, half under his breath before turning to look at where Tanger was standing, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, a ball cap holding back what he knew was long, unkempt dark hair. Still, he could see the impish grin of his friend even in the shadows.

"So, qu'avons-nous ici?" Max asked, dragging himself up, dripping, onto the dock where he then proceeded to shake on them like some kind of wet dog.

"I'm really sorry about this," Sidney turned to Tabby who was standing, also dripping and looking very unimpressed, about as far away from him as she could get, her arms crossed across her chest. "These are…my friends. Tabby…Tabitha, this is Max," he gestured towards his dripping, bewhiskered friend who was now eyeing his date rapaciously despite the silent threat that Sidney tried to send his way. "And this is Kris, who is somewhat better behaved," he explained, though this show of restraint wasn't going to win Tanger any favors the minute they were alone.

"Nice to meet you both," she hissed between clenched teeth. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go inside, get dry and warm. Goodnight Patrick," she snarled and brushed past him, nearly pushing him out of the way as she marched down the dock, forcing Kris to practically turn entirely sideways to avoid being shoved off of the dock. Kris stretched his arms out in supplication, as if to say 'what did I do?' but Sidney just shook his head and he knew his teammates knew him well enough to read the 'don't even fucking talk to me' look he was wearing on his face.

"Patrick?" Max asked, his thick eyebrows raised in query, obviously amused at the idea of subterfuge.

"Just…just help me clean this up and…and do me a favor and don`t fucking ask any more questions," Sidney snarled, reaching for the basket and stuffing the remaining food inside. Max laughed as he reached for the bottle of wine, and Sid could tell he intended to upend it. Sid just stared at him and Max silently handed him the bottle instead and then even Tanger helped to empty the glasses into the lake and didn`t even reach for as much as a grape before they picked up the blanket and followed him up to his car.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

"_Soooo _Patrick," Max began finally breaking the silence that had lasted long enough for the three men to get back to Sidney's home, put away what was left of the food, grab a six pack and head out onto his deck. Max had his feet up on one of the other deck chairs while Kris seemed to be content to stare out over the dark lake. Sidney was picking at the label on his Moosehead and sulking.

"You know how hard it is for me to find someone normal, a girl that isn't into the whole fame game," Sidney explained quietly. Not that he thought he had to explain that to either of his friends. They had both fallen victim to gold diggers of their own and learned the lesson the hard way. For his part, Sidney had avoided relationships altogether, for years, refusing to get more serious than a few dates. The one or two times he had begun to trust someone, his life ended up on Photobucket or Tumblr for the entire world to see.

"D'accord, mon ami, nous le comprends, mais…if she doesn't know who you are, why lie?" Sidney glanced over at Kris who he hadn't thought was listening to the conversation and watched while his dark haired friend grabbed a chair, turned it backwards and straddled it, leaning on the back of it, his chin resting on the back of his arms while he waited for a reply.

"But I don't know, not for sure," Sidney pointed out, peeling away part of the label and reaching out to drop it into the citronella candle, watching as it sizzled and disappeared in a plume of multi coloured smoke. "Sometimes, the good ones, they let you believe they don't know," he added thoughtfully, thinking of a certain blonde haired gymnast who hadn't seemed to care about who he was until she'd bedded him and then she'd splashed it across facebook as if it were the news of the world.

"So when do you plan on telling her the truth?" Max asked, taking a long gulp of the amber liquid, tipping it so that even the very last drop in the bottle wouldn't be wasted before holding it up to the light, just to be sure and then he reached for another from the cooler. "After you've slept with her? Before you ask her to marry you?" he added, finally turning his attention to Sid who stared back at him as if he'd just spoken in Swahili.

"I…I'm not saying I even want…well, yeah I want to sleep with her…yeah of course. I mean you saw her, right?" he looked at both of his friends in turn and they both nodded their agreement. She was definitely bangable. "But I don't want to have a relationship," he added, shuddering as if the entire idea of tying oneself down to another human being was repulsive in the extreme.

"Oui, because you are the king of the one night stands mon ami," Tanger snorted, and he and Max clinked bottles and laughed at his expense while Sidney sat and simmered in silence because it wasn't something he could argue over. He wasn't that guy. He wasn't like Max or Chris or Jordy, he couldn't just do the whole wham bam skip out in the middle of the night thing. He had too much respect for women to be the guy that snuck out in the early hours of the morning leaving behind a bogus phone number. Maybe it had had something to do with growing up in a small town like this, knowing that every move you made was going to be seen and talked about. Or maybe it was just that everything he'd done since he was about ten had been talked about, discussed, analyzed to death and it had just been too much of a risk to include women in that mix. Either way, meaningless sex wasn't in his repertoire.

"I didn't say one night. I said I wanted to sleep with her…have fun, over the summer and then I'll go my way and she'll go hers'. No harm no foul." It sounded like a solid plan when he said it to himself but the way both Kris and Max looked at each other and immediately began to snort derisively, he was willing to guess they didn't think that possible either.

"You don't do casual mon capitaine," Tanger chuckled, grabbing each bottle off of the table and staring into them as if there was some chance they would have miraculously began to refill themselves.

"And that picnic didn't look casual either," Max pointed out, his eyebrow raised as if he was daring Sid to argue the point.

"Is there some rule that says you can't enjoy the company of a woman, wine her and dine her before you have sex?" he asked and watched as Kris and Max turned to one another with amused looks on their faces. "What? What have I done wrong now?"

"Is the rule written down? Je ne sais pas, but I know if all I plan to do is take a girl to bed, I'm not spending more than a few drinks worth of money sur la fille, comprends?" Tanger gave Sid that look from beneath the brim of his hat that said he was right and Sid was wrong but life didn't work that way.

"If it was only a one night stand, oui, c'est vrai, but that's not what Sid's after, is it, mon ami?" Max interjected, which wasn't exactly coming to his defense. In fact, it made Sid squirm on his chair.

"It's casual, whatever," he mumbled, getting up from his chair, sending it tumbling behind him as he reached for the bottles on the table, grabbing them up in his hands. "I'm going to bed. Try not to piss off my neighbors." With that he turned and went into the house, knowing full well that he was leaving them to talk about him behind his back. '_Let them'_ he thought to himself as he slammed the door shut behind him and stomped into the kitchen, dropping the beer bottles into the recycling bin before dragging off his sweater and balling it angrily in his hands. Their advice had never amounted to much anyway.

Reaching into the tub, Sid turned the water on full and let it run over the back of his hand. What he probably needed was a cold shower but that would keep him up and he already had a bad feeling that the events of this evening were going to haunt him. So instead, he made sure the water was scalding hot before he unbuckled his belt and dropped his jeans to the floor.

He wanted to wash off her touch. He wanted his skin to stop tingling where hers' had brushed his, where she'd touched him either deliberately or inadvertently. He turned his face up into the hot spray and closed his eyes.

Was he being too eager? Doing too much? It seemed like she wanted him as much as he did, or had all the food sharing and all of the talk about skinny dipping been nothing more than an instrument meant to drive him crazy?

Sid's fists hit the cold tile with enough force to break open the skin on his knuckles.

Maybe the boys were right. Maybe he was taking this too seriously. He would stay away from her for a few days and then he wouldn't look so pathetic and needy. After all, he didn't need her. If he wanted to get laid all he'd have to do is drive down to Halifax with the boys and go to a bar, any bar, and he could have his pick of girls. They'd know who he was of course but if all he wanted was sex, did that matter?

Sid turned off the water and reached blindly for a towel. As he dragged it over his head, rubbing his still short, dark hair dry, he told himself firmly that he didn't need her or anyone else and that it wasn't just about the boys teasing him. He had more control than that. He had come home to fish and relax so that was what he was going to do. Fish, relax and not think about the dark haired beauty at the other end of the lake.

Failing that, he knew it wouldn't take much arm twisting to get Tanger and Max to join him on a flight to Atlantic City, or even all the way down to Barbados, if it came to that, which it wouldn't, he promised himself as he ran the towel roughly over his now cooked and somewhat tender skin.

"Ahhh fuck," he hissed as he imagined her hands running up his legs, softer, gentler than the towel and his body reacted accordingly. "Maybe a trip to Atlantic City isn't such a bad fucking idea," he growled, folding the towel and shoving it back onto the towel rack before scooping his clothes off of the floor and padding silently to his room where he knew he was going to spend the night tossing and turning.

* * *

Tabby sat on the bench by the bay window and stared across the dark lake, her knees pulled up to her chin, one of her grandmother's old hand sewn quilts wrapped around her. Not because she was cold but because she felt like she needed holding onto. She'd known that she might feel the need for a hug or two while she was here, but she'd thought that would be because of all the memories in the walls surrounding her. As it turned out, the specters in the old house seemed to be friendlier than she had anticipated and she hadn't really felt alone since she'd got here. Not until tonight. Tonight she felt lonelier than she'd felt in years.

She'd always had a knack for surrounding herself with people. Not that she needed to be with anyone, but it was somehow more comforting to know that her friends were either a text or a block away. She knew she could text her friends now, it wasn't nearly as late on the other side of the country as it was here, but she also knew they'd be out at a pub or a club having a good time and didn't need to hear her complaining about something that she told herself was trivial anyway. He wasn't important. He was just some cute guy whose biceps and triceps and god help her, that god damn amazing gluteus maximus of his were, at most, a pleasant distraction. She'd just let him take up too much of her time. It's not like there weren't things he had to do around here.

There were her grandmother's books to pack away, for instance, she told herself, glancing over at the bookshelves across the dark room filled with first editions and old, dusty copies of Wuthering Heights and Mansfield Park. She'd take some of them home, the rest she planned to put on e-bay.

And that was another thing she needed to do. Now that the phones were being hooked up in the morning, she needed to get online and get in touch with Harlequin and send them an email with the pictures she'd taken of the canvas. If they liked it they'd send a courier for it and she'd be putting a few hundred in her bank account, which she was going to need if she was going to get some clothes that wouldn't make her stand out like a sore thumb around town and that she didn't mind getting a little dirty. Now she understood why gramps had spent so much time in overalls.

'_See_,' she told herself with a secretive little smile, '_you __**can**__ think about something other than him'_. She just needed to keep busy, and there was plenty to do.

'_You're not here to chase boys'_, she reminded herself firmly, '_no matter how long his eyelashes are or how soft his lips look_'. Tabbi's fingertips pressed against her bottom lip. It was as if all she had to do was close her eyes and she could conjure him up, like a poltergeist that could actually press his lips to hers and leave her shivering in his wake.

She'd just have to keep herself busy and if he asked, she would just have to explain that she had things to do and it wasn't as if it was a lie. Besides, she told herself as she got to her feet and crawled onto the small, single bed with the lumpy mattress, if she was really that lonely she could always get a cat. At least with a cat, his friends wouldn't show up and ruin her night.

'_Maybe that had been a lucky escape though'_, she told herself as she stared up at the ceiling. If his juvenile, annoying little friends hadn't shown up maybe they would have gotten carried away and maybe she would have done something she'd regret in the morning. '_Doubtful'_, she mused, grinning to herself. There was something about the electricity that passed between them every time they so much as brushed against one another that told her that even if all that came of it was a one night stand, it would probably be a one night stand that would remain unsurpassed for the rest of her life.

A little shudder went through her entire body and Tabby bit down on her bottom lip to silence a whimper. '_It doesn't matter if it would be that good'_, she told herself, screwing her eyes shut against the vision of his muscular shoulders and smooth chest moving above her. It would just complicate things. She had to clean up and fix up the house, put it up on the market and get the hell out of dodge before it turned cold and this and every other place on the Eastern Seaboard got lost in the fog and the rain.

'_No, no boys'_, she told herself again and turned over on her side and reached for an old teddy bear she'd found in a box earlier that day.

"Just you and me teddy," she sighed as she began, silently, to count sheep; sheep with gold and green eyes and soft, pink pouty lips.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

As if she'd jinxed herself, Tabby woke up to a find a thick fog blanketing the lake and a gloomy dark grey sky looming overhead. Pulling on one of the only sweaters she'd brought with her, she took a well worn and obviously well loved copy of Pride and Prejudice with her down to the store and opened up.

She was half way through Lizzie and Darcy's turbulent relationship when she heard the rain began to pelt down upon the old roof. '_Great_,' she sighed to herself, sticking her thumb in the book to hold her place. She knew there would be no customers now, even though her grandfather had always said that the fish were more likely to bite in the rain. People came to the lake to catch sun, drink some beer and waste some time. It wasn't really about fishing, even if all of the store's clients seemed to be serious about their pastime. They weren't serious enough to catch their death in one of the East Coast's famous downpours.

Tabby stared out the window as she turned the sign in the front door from 'open' to 'closed'. The rain was coming down so hard that cats and dogs didn't really describe it. It was like sheets of water falling from the sky.

'_Oh well_,' she thought, shrugging to herself as she turned to head back into the house. It wasn't as if she didn't have lots to do. Mentally adding things off her list, she headed up the rickety old stairs when she felt the first drop on her head.

"Oh mother fucking hell," she growled, turning and heading back down the stairs. She'd forgotten that the old place leaked like a colander when it rained like this. A spring shower it could take. Even a heavy dump of snow, but sheets of rain and the place turned into a giant dripping faucet. Dropping Lizzie and Darcy on the couch as she jogged by, Tabby began pulling out pots and bowls, silently cursing her grandfather for not having the roof fixed and wondering how much worse it could be than when she'd been a teenager and just how many pots and bowls she was going to need.

* * *

Sidney stared out at the sheeting rain and let go a heavy sigh. He'd always hated rain days, even when he'd been a kid. He'd never been good at sitting still. He wasn't the kind to curl up and read a good book. He couldn't even sit through an entire movie without stopping it in the middle and doing something else. He thought about asking if the guys wanted to shoot some pucks in the basement where he had had a similar set up to his parents' place except with a goal this time to shoot at and not his mom's dryer, but Max and Kris seemed content to duel it out, UFC style, on X-box. In fact, from where he leaning, staring out the kitchen window, he could hear them cursing one another loudly en Français.

Half of him wanted to join them but it was always too complicated to play with three, unless they got into something like So-Com or Brothers in Arms, and the other half knew that he was too competitive for it to really be any fun. He just hated to lose too much.

"Why don't we really go?" he called, still staring out at the sheeting rain. He heard the silence that followed and grinned to himself. It didn't take too long before two heads appeared around the corner, expressions of hopeful disbelief clear on both of their faces.

"Really?" they said in unison. Damn, they'd all been hanging out together _way_ too long.

"Once it gets socked in like this it could be a fucking week before it clears," he explained which made the two look even more eagerly hopeful, their eyes round as saucers, just like little kids being teased with the promise of candy, sure it was going to be taken away if they said the wrong thing. "Well? What else are we going to do?" he asked and then took a step while his two friends began to jump and yell like a couple of oversexed cheerleaders.

It wasn't just the rain he'd be getting away from, Sid thought to himself as Max and Tanger celebrated. He'd spent half the night fighting the urge to drive up to her house and…. Sid shook his head, trying to clear the x-rated visions from his mind. It was one thing to almost kiss a girl but even if she had teased him a little, no matter how far ahead his imagination raced, she hadn't exactly invited him into her bed, although Sid knew, without a shadow of a doubt that was exactly where he wanted to be and the strength of his desire for her was starting to scare the shit out of him.

He didn't obsess like this over women. Scores, games, set plays, sure. He could obsess over positioning in a power play for hours, given the opportunity. But women…normally he tried not to allow them to invade his thoughts too often and no wonder. It was so distracting. This was exactly the reason that his father had forbidden him to date until after the draft. Not that he'd done much of that since then. Women always seemed to want more than he had to give and he hadn't found anyone yet that was worth taking the time for.

That and having been bitten a couple of times, Sid wasn't sure that he trusted his judgment anymore when it came to pretty girls, hence his taking the first opportunity to escape from the temptation that Tabby represented.

"So we're really doing this. You're not going to pull out on us au dernier moment, est-ce pas, mon ami?" Tanger asked, grabbing Sid by the shoulders and daring him to back out already.

"Ne me faites pas regretter," Sid sighs as he mumbles his reply, causing Kris to bounce up and down and when Sid won't join in, Tanger turns and grabs Max and the two of them go back to acting like a couple of kangaroos while Sid brushes by them to search for his passport.

* * *

Tabby drummed her fingernails impatiently on the counter as she waited for the shop assistant to come back with a recommend someone to fix the roof. She'd begun using the bait pails to catch the drips and as an option, that was quickly losing its' effectiveness.

"Snap your gum at me and tell me to use the yellow pages," she snarled to herself impatiently as she stared at the door the girl had disappeared through. "If I had a yellow pages I know exactly where I'd be shoving it right about now," she added colourfully, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of her lips as she thought about the highly uncomfortable, even painful manner in which she would insert the brightly coloured book…

"Is Taylor here?" Tabby froze, that molten chocolate voice causing the small hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. She closed her eyes and imagined herself invisible.

'_Great…just fucking great'_, she mentally swore as her hand gripped the edge of the desk. She was wearing yoga pants, old ones that barely fit that she'd found in one of the closets, black hip skimming ones with 'sexy' written across the ass of them in bright red, in case you might otherwise miss the sentiment. Her already slim fitting t-shirt was drenched and clinging to her like a second skin, causing more than just her skin to be chilled as a Neanderthal type middle aged man in a red and black checked hunting cap had proved by staring straight at her chest as she walked in the door. Tabby dug the keys to the old pick up into the palm of her hand and prayed not to be seen with her hair plastered to her head, not an ounce of make up on and generally looking like a homeless person.

"Hey, look mon capitaine, n'est pas que le magasin d'âppats fille?" Tabby pushed the breath she'd been holding out between pursed lips and forced a smile on her face as she reached up to wipe her wet hair out of her eyes. When she turned, rather than finding Patrick standing behind her, she found one of his friends, the one with the darker hair, and, now that she could see them, equally dark and very puppy dog like eyes. At first glance she would have thought them just that, soft and chocolate brown like a lab's but then his lips turned up in a mischievous grin and Tabby made a mental note, '_that one's trouble'. _

"Doing some work on the house while it's quiet?" Tabby turned toward the source of that liquid honey coated voice and tried to forget that she looked like death not so very warmed over, especially when he looked so damned handsome in a light blue t-shirt that seemed almost like a second skin the way it draped closely over his muscles, causing his shoulders to look even wider than she knew them to be. Even with a light colored baseball hat pulled down over his eyes there was no mistaking that he was looking at her with actual concern in his caramel flavored gaze.

"Yeah, something like that," she replied, trying to sound more enthused about it. The last thing she needed was more of his knight in shining armor act. If he so much as asked if he could help she knew her knees would just give way.

"Nothing major, I hope," he added, taking another step towards her until he too was leaning against the counter, his ankles crossed so that one of those damnable flip flops he seemed to wear everywhere bent under itself. She forced herself to shrug and smile and do that whole 'golly gee, no problem-o boss' look as she dragged her gaze away from his just so that she could breathe again, except that she found herself staring down at his hand, and those thick fingers that were holding a sizeable key ring that included a small red maple leaf and a key fob that looked like it might be for some expensive type of vehicle. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he owned a roofing hammer but almost as soon as she thought it, she had a vision of him, shirtless and sweaty on her roof and so instead she just shook her head and bit down on her bottom lip, not trusting herself to speak with that vision still burning in her mind.

Fortunately she didn't have to speak, as he was very suddenly being climbed by a pretty young girl with long blonde hair. Tabby told herself she had no right to be jealous but the urge to grab the girl by her hair and pull her off of him was nearly overwhelming. It was only the risk of making an even _bigger_ spectacle out of herself that stopped her.

"Guess who?" the girl wrapped her hands across his face, blinding him, but Patrick didn't look overly shocked or perturbed. In fact, he grinned wide, pulling his pink lips back over his big white teeth.

"Get down Taylor. What are you trying to do? Cripple me?" he laughed, reaching back with one arm to help her down. Tabby clenched her teeth even as her hands curled into fists. If he had a girlfriend literally blocks away from her house how could he have nearly kissed her and she was no not that kind of girl who shared well.

"Are you saying I'm fat?" the girl, Taylor, put her hands on her hips and stared him down, but with a grin on her face and a twinkle in her eye that said she didn't mean anything by it. Tabby looked at her and then back at Patrick, who was rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

"You girls and your obsession with weight, fuck. Tell her Kris. Tell her that no guy likes a rack of bones." Tabby turned to the one with the puppy dog eyes and found him suddenly very interested in a shelf of power tools.

"That's okay Kristopher," the girl purred, sidling up to him and wrapping her arms around what looked to be a very flat stomach, before laying her cheek against the middle of his back with a cherubic smile on her face. "You don't have to do anything but breathe and look good."

"Si…mon capitaine, il s'agit de votre soeur," the young Frenchman managed to look stoic and entirely uncomfortable all at once. It even made Tabby smile to see him stiffen in the girl's embrace, especially now that he'd said that she was Patrick's sister.

"I think what Tanger's trying to say is stop manhandling the merchandise," Patrick's other friend, the one that had canon-balled them last night, appeared beside the cuddling duo. "Unless you want to manhandle my merchandise, ma petite fleur," he added in a lascivious tone.

"Ewww, your merchandise has been way too handled," Patrick's younger sibling gave a shudder, but untwined herself from his friend. "You should be in the damaged goods section."

"Ouch!" the one Patrick had called Max placed both of his hands over his heart and winced. "Je suis mortellement blessé," he added while artfully stumbling backwards, raising one hand dramatically to his brow. "The light, la lumière…se fane," he moaned, finally coming to rest against a pile of boxed air conditioners which he then proceeded to slide down until he was sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out in front of him, his arms limp at his sides, his eyes closed.

The entire store gave him a standing ovation and, after a long moment, he popped up to his feet and began giving deep bows to all four corners of the store.

* * *

"Seriously, he should be put on a leash," Taylor sighed, turning her back to the show and facing her brother, her cherubic smile replaced by a tired half frown. "So, what do you need for your giant house that you need my store discount on?"

"Nothing," Sidney tried not to laugh, knowing it would only upset his young sibling even more if he was even the least bit encouraging of his friend although it was hard not to laugh when Max pulled shit like this. "I just wanted to let you know that we're heading to Atlantic City…probably into New York too, so I'll be gone for a few days. Will you be okay to look after my place for a while?" he dangled the keys in front of Taylor who reached up to snatch them out of his hand but he was quicker. He closed his fingers around the keys and held them up and back, just out of her reach. "Without having a huge party and getting me in trouble with the neighbors…_again_," he added, raising an eyebrow while he watched her bottom lip jut out.

"That was once, and I didn't invite most of those people, they just sort of showed up," she pouted but didn't stop reaching for the keys, even giving a little jump as he held them just out of her reach.

"Atlantic City eh?" Sidney had almost forgotten she was there, but as soon as she spoke, he looked over to find her still leaning on the desk, except now she was wearing an expression of…was it disappointment? If it was, it was there and gone or at the very least hidden as she ducked her head and went back to digging into the counter with her red nails. Red, the same colour as that word across the ass of those hip hugging pants she was wearing.

"The guys thought it might be fun." Suddenly it felt like he should be apologizing, as if he was doing something wrong. He didn't even know this girl and already he felt like he was abandoning her.

"I'm sure it will be," she agreed, flattening her hand on the counter and then using it to push off. "Well, have a good time," she smiled but it didn't warm her features at all. In fact, her eyes flashed like she was angry. Angry at him for leaving? Sidney turned to watch her leave, half enjoying the view and half wanting to run after her, to grab her and spin her around, run his fingers through her wet hair and taste the rain on her lips. Except he didn't. Instead he listened to the chime above the door sound as she pushed her way through it and he just stood there, wondering what if?

"So, are you going to give me the keys or what?" Taylor made another grab for his hand and this time Sidney didn't pull away from her grasp. He let his sister snap her hand around his wrist and said nothing as she pried the key ring out of his hand. "And where should I tell mom and dad you've gone because they are so not going to be impressed with Atlantic City," she added, tucking his keys away in the pouch at the front of her Rona pinny.

"I uh…Max's…say we've gone to Max's for a while," he told her, absentmindedly, that part of him that wanted to go after Tabby felt like it had left with her. He suddenly felt light headed and sick to his stomach at the same time.

"As long as he's not hanging around here," Taylor grumbled, before putting on her bright and shiny face and going on tip toes to hug him. Sidney hugged her back but his mind was…elsewhere.

"Ma petite, you injure me with your hostility," Max did that thing where he suddenly appeared behind someone and made them jump out of their skin. It never did work with Taylor. That's why she was a goalie like his father had been. She didn't rattle easily.

"I am not your petite, and I'll be a lot more than hostile if you keep breathing down my neck Froggie," Sid's sister growled, putting her elbow deep into Max's gut, making him double over and fight for breath.

"That's no way to get mon ami Kristopher to like you, you know, calling me names like that," Max hissed, still holding his stomach as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Who says I like any of you?" Taylor snarled, and with that, turned on her heel and headed back into one of the aisles. They could hear her muttering something derogatory about men all the way to the back of the store.

"I like them feisty," Max grinned suddenly and Sid shuddered.

"Don't talk about my sister that way, you pervert," Sid grumbled, giving his friend a push towards the front door.

"She scares me," Kris added, giving his own shudder.

"Both of you, stop talking about my sister, seriously," Sid grumbled, hunching his shoulders as they stepped out into the beating rain. "Now what time is the flight? Is there anything we need before we go?"

"It's Atlantic City mon ami," Max grinned, putting his arm around his friend's shoulders. "Whatever we need we can find there. Even a hooker for you," he added, and for the second or maybe third time that day, Sid elbowed him in the ribs and left him behind holding his ribs and cursing en Français.


	8. Chapter 8

_okay, I got into a little disagreement over a cookie with our new dog and long story short, my middle finger got gnawed on a little more excitedly than either of us anticipated and then my mother in law tried to poison me by feeding me pasta cooked in 2 things I am violently allergic to - wine and clam sauce neither of which I could taste but both of them had me up all night and half of today doing thing unspeakable but finally I got my finger moving enough to finish this so I hope the wait was worth it! & please excuse me if there are more than the usual number of spelling errors!_

Chapter 7

Max had a dark haired, long legged beauty sitting on his lap blowing on his dice and Tanger had two curvaceous goddesses, one blonde, one dark haired, one to blow on each of his dice as they sat at the craps table in the casino of the Trump Marina. Sid sat alone between them, sipping on a JD on the rocks, his mind…elsewhere. He knew the guys were enjoying the lights, the glitz, the ladies…obviously, but this was far from his idea of relaxing. He'd hoped that once they were here, once they'd gone to the 'freak show' on the Boardwalk, had some thick cut steaks and sat down at the Black Jack table that he would begin to forget but….

"Mon Dieu! Will you look at him?" Tanger hooked his thumb in Sid's direction and though he knew it was already too late, Sid had the urge to climb under the table and disappear. Instead he watched Max's head swivel towards him and study him, head tilted to one side, a frown appearing on his face for the first time in hours.

"Oui, il semble que cela est pire que nous le pensions," Max sighed dramatically, giving Sid that 'what are we going to do with you' look that he was probably too familiar with. Sometimes he succeeded in enjoying the pursuits that his teammates called r&r but for the most part….

"You're going to do it aren't you?" Kris's voice held that accusing tone that held in it both hurt and disappointment in it. Sid opened his mouth to say that he wouldn't, but as soon as he did, he knew that he was going to do it. "Tabernak! Pourquoi ne pas vous venez de le dire avant que nous partions? Eh? Si vous aviez dit que vous étiez simplement en amour avec elle…."

"Hold on, I'm not…I don't feel like that about her…not like _that_," but even as he tried to deny it, Sid tasted the lie on his own tongue. She _was_ all he could think about. He'd thought about her all the way here on the plane and all those girls at the freak show with their tattoos had only reminded him of that demi fey inked on her back and now here in the casino, all these women in their party dresses made him wonder what she'd look like in some little black number with a pair of strappy heels….

"Si c'est l'amour then you must go mon ami," Max instructed him quietly, sharing with him that look that Sid knew Max would never let most people see. Max didn't want to be alone for the rest of his life, it was just too hard for him to pick just one woman. "We can't all be Casanovas mon ami. Some of us are cursed with having to please them all," he added, reaching up to cradle the girl's chin as she beamed down at him. "But you, mon très bon ami, you are not such a one. When you love, it will be just one and if she is such a one…."

"Ooh, are you a poet?" the girl on his lap purred, stroking his be-whiskered cheek with her long, black fingernails.

"Oui, ma petite renarde, je suis un amant et un combattent, mais surtout je suis beni des compétences sexuelles au-delà de la compréhension de votre imagination très petites." Sid shook his head, unable not to laugh as the girl went all goggle eyed and blushed to the tips of her ears. They both knew she had no idea what he'd just said but she'd heard sex in it and one of Max's hands had slid up her inner thigh as he'd spoken and Sid could guess exactly where it was and what it was doing, which meant that was his cue to leave.

"I'll talk to you soon," he promised as he slid off of the barstool and pushed his unused chips towards Max.

"Good luck mon ami," Max grinned at him. "But if you can't satisfy her, you know who to call, eh?" he added with a wolfish grin and a wink that made Sid laugh.

"Oui, he'll call me because obviously I have mad skills, n'est-ce pas mes choux jolie petite?" Tanger shouted after him, giving both of his ladies a swift, hard smack on their asses, nearly lifting them off of their heels and make them shriek and giggle.

Sid left the two Francaphones behind him, still arguing about whose skills were greater, and headed for the front desk where he'd be able to order a town car to the airport and from there, the fastest plane back north.

* * *

Tabby lay awake in her single bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the rain on the roof. She'd cleaned, boxed things up, dusted away cobwebs and even finished Pride and Prejudice. Even in her present mood she hadn't been able to hold back the tears at having Lizzie and Darcy realize their love at last.

Maybe that's what had her staring up at the ceiling in the middle of the night, she thought as she rolled over and stared at the blank wall instead. Does every woman worry that she might never find her prince charming and whose fault was it if they did? Surely Jane Austen deserved as much blame as Walt Disney for making little girls dream about a strong, silent type on a white horse riding to their rescue….

Was that the wind?

Tabby sat bolt upright in bed, the hoody she'd worn to bed falling over her eyes as she threw the thread bare sheets aside and listened. Nothing, just silence, except for the sound of rain against the window and the roof and the side of the house and….

Shaking her head, she was about to slide back between the sheets when she heard the thumping noise again. It was coming from downstairs, and if it was the wind, picking up and tossing something against the side of the house, it was doing it in an awfully rhythmic way.

Tabby slid her feet into her bear claw slippers and, in her pigs with wings pj's, padded out into the hallway, tilting her head as she came to the top of the stairs, listening to the sound. Now that she was closer, she was almost sure someone – or maybe something – was knocking on the door.

"Who the fuck is knocking on my door in the middle of the fucking night?" she hissed, gripping the old, wobbly and badly in need of a fresh coat of paint banister and gingerly making her way down the stairs, listening to each and every creak and groan of the boards beneath her feet, wondering which was more likely to kill her, the banister giving way or one of the floorboards? The heavy knock at the door came again and she shot the big, heavy door, now in sight, a dirty look. "I'm fucking coming. Hold your fucking horses." Not that she was worried about the door. That was probably the biggest, heaviest door on the entire island. It had been made from ship planking and was probably four inches thick. No one was kicking that door down.

Taking the last, cautious step off of the stairs, Tabby walked towards the door, rubbing her eyes which had been wide open all night and were suddenly threatening to close on her.

"Oh so _now _you're tired," she said sarcastically to no one in particular as she reached to unlatch the door, her fingers sliding the chain loose and then reaching for the deadbolt before her mind caught up to what she was doing. "Yeah, that would be good, nobody to hear you scream for miles and you're just going to open the door to an axe murderer? Smart girl Tabby," she admonished herself, wishing that her grandfather had had the forethought to install one of those peek holes on the door. "Who is it?" she called instead, pressing her ear to the thick wooden door, knowing how unlikely it was that anything but the strongest voice would be heard over the storm and through the door.

"It's…it's Patrick!"

Her body stilled and she closed her eyes as she concentrated on taking deep, steady breaths before she allowed her fingers to move the dead bolt the rest of the way so that she could open the door. Her hand shook as she pulled the big door open, but he was shaking even more as he stood on the step, looking like a drowned man, water dripping from his hair into his eyes, from his long, dark eyelashes onto his pale cheeks and from everywhere off his dark grey and silver pinstriped suit. All of those questions that she should have asked, like 'what are you doing here?' and 'don't you know what time it is?' never quite made it from the tip of her tongue as he closed the distance between them, and Tabby found herself pulled against his chilled, soaking wet body, her lips covered by his own, soft, cool wet ones.

* * *

Normally a girl in a grey hoodie, pajama bottoms with…(were those flying pigs?) on them and giant, oversized bear claw slippers would have been at the very least amusing, but having had no other thought than seeing her naked as soon as possible in his head for hours now, Sidney thought that she looked like chocolate cheesecake with peanut buttercups, whip cream and chocolate shavings. She was like a tall, cold glass of water to a man dying of thirst. She was beautiful and sexy and warm and dry and…

And he stepped up from the stoop and into her home and pulled her to him and took her lips with his own and fed from her like she was breathing, as if he could do nothing else, as if kissing her was as necessary as drawing in oxygen. He cradled her face in his hands and he meant to do it gently but he knew that he was failing as she whimpered into his mouth but when he went to withdraw his hands hers grabbed a hold of his and pulled him hard against her body and then he couldn't think at all.

She was clawing at his jacket and he helped her to shrug it off but was only willing to let go of her one hand at a time. Under normal circumstances he took better care of his suits than wadding it up and throwing it on the floor, but this was in no way a normal circumstance and he could buy another suit tomorrow, so he shrugged it off and left it lying on the floor behind him in a heap. She reached for his shirt next, her fingers fumbling with the wet, slippery buttons as her tongue swept over his, sending a shudder throughout his entire body, and he became impatient, pushing her hands away and dragging it over his head instead, tossing it too onto the floor. When he turned back to her, intending to go back to kissing her, to tasting her sweet breath and exploring her mouth with his tongue, he froze, unable to do more than watch as she slowly unzipped the soft grey hoodie. The hood itself had already fallen back, revealing her hair plaited in two long braids that disappeared behind her back, but as she revealed her collarbones, the thin white skin of her chest, his heart stopped in his chest as he realized that she wasn't wearing a bra.

He bent then, cupping her bare breasts, holding their ripe fullness in his hands as he suckled and licked his way around the hard nubs of her nipples. He felt her fingernails digging into this scalp and it should have been painful but the only thing that seemed painful now was dick, throbbing in the restraints of his pants, aching to be free. He ignored that pain and concentrated on making her sigh out loud, feeling her arching her back to press herself closer to his lips, his mouth, his teeth, all of which he used to explore the dark pink tips of her breasts.

He held them close together so he could move his mouth from one to the other without having to pause and he circled her nipples with his tongue before he tugged at those hard little nubs with his teeth until she moaned out loud and dug her fingers insistently into his hair, holding him there, obviously enjoying his ministrations as much as he was enjoying the feel and taste of her.

It wasn't enough though, not after days of day dreaming and fantasizing about being with her. This was good, but he was impatient to taste all of her, have all of her and so he kissed his way up over her collarbones, pausing to bite the thin skin of her neck to make her squeal before he took her mouth again with his and kissed her hard. Still holding fast to one of her tits, he slid his other hand down, down over the soft swell of her belly and below the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She wasn't wearing panties and so it was easy to slide his hand between her thighs, finding her cleft smoldering hot and soaking wet as he slid his fingers between her folds.

She groaned out loud then, settling her legs farther apart to give him better access, pressing her hot, smooth pussy lips down against his hand, grinding her body against his hand until he found that spot, that spot that made her pull her lips from his, throw her head back against the wall and let out a long, high pitched wail.

He slid his hand free from her breast then and captured her cheek and chin in his big hand and forced her gaze to meet his as his thumb began to stroke her clit in hard little circles that had her panting and shuddering, so close to an orgasm that she could barely breathe. When his other fingers slid up inside of her, teasing and probing her entrance while his thumb pressed against her clit like it was one of those damned 'Easy' buttons, her eyes fluttered shut but he growled and dug his teeth into the soft flesh of her ear.

"I want to see it. I want to see your eyes when I make you cum," he growled into her ear like a threat but it was nothing of the kind. It was greed and passion and she seemed to like it as her gaze held his he pressed his body against hers', grinding his throbbing hard dick into her thigh as he urgently stroked her clit until she felt all that pressure in her belly release in a tidal wave of pleasure so strong that it took every ounce of control she had to keep her eyes open and let him hold her gaze while she cried out and shook and then cried out again. "Bedroom…where?"

* * *

As if he was beyond making full sentences now, so close to his base instincts, he grunted his question and when she tipped her head towards the stairs she had just descended he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. He practically ran up the stairs and it was only out of sheer self preservation that Tabby managed to kick off her ridiculous bear paw slippers as she hit the first landing and jogged after him.

At the top of the stairs he paused but before she could give him direction, he was heading for her grandparents room. Tabby stopped, and pulled against his hand and he turned and gave her a curious look but followed her into the small, dark room with the rumpled bed sheets and the lumpy mattress. He had a look on his face that told her he was going to ask about a bigger bed or a bigger room but she silenced those questions by hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her pajama bottoms and wriggling out of them.

His gaze followed the pj bottoms to the ground and then slowly, very slowly, his gaze made its' way upwards, but not before taking into the entire view. She felt like blushing, like turning away to hide her nakedness from his eager gaze, but the boyish sort of excitement that met her eyes when his gaze finally reached hers' made her smile and gave her back her confidence.

Lying back on the bed, Tabby crooked her finger at him and then watched as he kicked off his shoes, struggled with his belt and finally, with some comical hopping from one foot to the other, struggled out of his soaked pants and even more sodden socks before leaping and joining her in the cramped, single bed.

There was barely enough room for the both of them, but her body seemed to fit neatly into his as he helped her pull the quilt up over them, capturing their body heat beneath it as she molded herself to his cool, damp skin. The maternal, or perhaps survival, instinct kicked in and she started to rub his arms to try and take away the chill and he let her, for a moment, before he pulled her beneath him and his hand slid from her cheek into her hair before his lips took hers' again, more softly this time.

He kissed her then, nibbling at her bottom lip before taking her lip between his soft ones, over and over until she became impatient and snaked her tongue out over his lips, urging him to part them and when he did, their tongues dueled in the cool night air before his mouth once again covered hers' and this time he moaned as her tongue wrapped itself around his. His other hand stroked the outside of her thigh as they kissed and Tabby fought the urge to wrap her legs around his and pull him entirely inside of her. Patience, she told herself as kissed his way down her neck, down over her collarbones and down, down to where he worshipped her breasts once more. He sucked and licked and bit until she whimpered and dug her fingers into his hair, trying in vain to pull him up and off of her so that she could make it clear that, while this was all well and good, she'd caught a glimpse of what she wanted and felt it was her turn to make him moan.

* * *

Sidney was not to be denied his goal, however, and his lips continued their journey south, until he had nibbled and kissed his way down between her thighs at which point she had decided to put up something of a fight. She wriggled and writhed and tried to keep her milky white thighs together but with teasing bites and a little persuasion he managed to find his way to the heated core of her femininity.

She lay very still as he gently peeled her nether lips apart, but when he swept his tongue from her entrance all the way up to that so very sensitive nub at the northernmost tip of her pussy, she writhed and sighed and from that he took encouragement. He dug his tongue as far into her entrance as he could, tasting her salty goodness on his tongue as he made it do those waves that had her once again digging her fingers into his hair and pressing him closer.

Licking his way upwards again, he sucked on that hard little button that made her cry out and raise her hips off of the bed. He pressed her thighs up and outward and flicked the tip of his tongue across her clit once, twice, three more times and listened to her whimper and felt her thighs quiver beneath the palms of his hands. Drawing back, he held her pink folds apart and admired the view, blowing his breath across her clit just to make her shudder.

Pushing first one finger in and then two, he searched with his fingertips for that spot, that spongy sensitive spot that, with a come-hither gesture, would make her rocket over the edge. He positioned his mouth around her clit and sucked, hard, pressing the flat of his tongue against that hard little nub as he worked his fingers in and out of her pussy. She pressed against his mouth, his fingers and whimpered and struggled beneath the sheet but when her hips suddenly shot off of the mattress and she let go a cry like she'd been shot, he knew. He felt her juices pour over his hand, felt her entire body shudder with the strength of the orgasm and he allowed himself a moment to smile proudly over her while he pulled her warm body against his.

She lay there for a while, boneless in his arms, her eyes shut, taking long, deep breaths as her body stopped shaking and then her dark eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him with a Mona Lisa smile.

"Hi," she said quietly and they both smiled and laughed, just a little nervously.

"Hi," he replied, stroking the back of his hand down her cheek before gently capturing her lips with his.

He kissed her gently, reaching back to run his fingers through her hair only to have his fingers stick in her braids. "May I?" he asked, tugging gently at the elastic holding the end of the braid together. She nodded and sat up, holding the sheet tight around her chest and sat there silently as he undid first one braid and then the other, running his fingers through her long dark tresses to free her silky mane which then fell in rippling waves down past her shoulders. He thought it looked like the water on the lake at night with just a light breeze blowing over its' surface. He held it to his nose and inhaled the rich, fruity scent of it and then brushed it aside to press his lips to her neck where her skin smelled vaguely of white birthday cake with thick frosting and sprinkles.

He kissed his way along the sharp line of her jaw until her found her mouth again. Her lips parted beneath his as he gently eased her back down onto the bed and pulled the quilt back over their heads even though he'd long forgotten about being drenched or cold. It was only his hair that was still wet and that would dry, in time. At this moment in time he didn't care much about living past this moment, this feeling of her body warm and tractable beneath his, her arms around his back as he eased his way between her thighs.

He took her soft sighs into his mouth as consent as his cock edged its way into her soft folds, as her hips rose to meet his and she held on even tighter, digging her nails into his shoulders. He caught his breath, his lips parting from hers' from one, brief, blinding moment as his dick slid into her warm, wet entrance and he felt her squeeze tightly around him. He made a sound, deep in his throat, somewhere between a gasp and a cry as he held himself there, half afraid he wouldn't last another moment, the sensation of being one with her too amazing, too good to be true.

But she wouldn't let him savor the moment. With a single move of her hips she had him balls deep inside of her and her own strangled cry made him look down at her in wonder. Her eyes were shut tight and her full lips were parted now in the silent ending to that cry as her body stretched to accommodate his. She fit him perfectly, as if her body was made as a home for his, his being a key to her lock and suddenly Sidney was blinking back tears.

This was different than all of those nights before with girls whose faces he didn't remember, nameless numbers of women who had come and gone from his bed and never made more than a passing impression. This felt real and it was more than her sweet pussy that had a strangle hold on him. He could feel something squeezing at his chest, threatening to stop him from ever breathing again and it almost hurt.

Fuck. He could hear Max laughing at him now and saying things like 'you're such a girl' and 'it's not love mon ami, it's just getting your dick wet'. But Sid knew differently. He knew now what Flower meant when he'd said that one day he would just know. He knew now, as their bodies finally began to move in that universal way of give and take, that ebb and flow of the universe. He was certain as her lips reached for his and their bodies were like a connected circuit, almost like they could glow like a bulb in a socket with the energy flooding over and through them. He knew…he just knew.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

There was that moment, as her brain left dreamland behind, as she began to realize that it was morning and that what she remembered was not part of the dream but had in fact been real that Tabby came to know that he had not done what a one night stand would usually do. He had not slipped away in the middle of the night. He was still there, his arm around her waist, cradling her against the full length of his body which was tucked tightly against the back of hers'. Smiling to herself as she blinked her eyes against the golden rays of the sunrise reaching their lazy hazy way through the thin curtains, Tabby realized his other hand was laced with hers', just beneath her chin. The bed was tiny, but somehow they had made it work and she couldn't honestly remember the last time she'd ever slept quite that soundly, that deeply, that restfully. Of course, as those deep aches in her joints reminded her, he had tired her out. He had incredible stamina.

Biting down on her bottom lip, she grinned as the memories, more visual clips of moments, of bodies moving in time with one another, him on top, her on top, filled her imagination. If she'd thought Damon had been good in bed, she had to put him into the only adequate bin now.

"Good morning." She felt his lips as he pressed them against the back of her shoulder and though she couldn't think why, in the light of everything that had passed nearly wordlessly between them in the night, Tabby felt her face heat as his body snuggled impossibly closer to hers'. "It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day," he added, digging his chin into her shoulder as he peered out between the curtains at where the huge golden orb of the sun peeked up over the trees.

"Mmm, which means I'll have to open up soon," she mumbled, regretting already that she'd thought of it at all when she was still floating on the fluffy pink cloud of afterglow.

"Don't," he whispered into her ear, his lips pressing against the shell of ear, her cheek as soon as he'd said it. "We could stay here, all day," he suggested, pressing his now obviously happy to be awake and this close to her body against the small of her back, tempting her to say yes.

"Don't you have a job to be at?" she asked, biting down on her bottom lip to stifle a sigh as the palm of his hand swept over the curve of her hip.

"I'm on vacation," he explained in a voice that was both husky and breathless as his lips pressed against the round of her shoulder.

"Well I need that money to do some renos around here. If you hadn't noticed, this place is kind of falling down," she told him, trying to sound stern and failing as her voice turned up into a squeak at the end as his teeth dug into the curve of her neck.

"I'll pay you to stay closed," he offered, his body more insistent now as his now very hard and very thick erection pressed between her thighs.

"What are you…like…independently wealthy or something?" she asked, half giggling, half sighing as she rolled over so that she was lying beside him, so that she could take him in hand, curling her fingers around the width of him as his eyes closed and his full lips parted in a soundless sigh.

"How much could you make in a bait shop in a day?" he asked, once he'd recovered enough to speak, though he didn't seem much interested in the answer as he reached for her lips with his and kissed her onto her back, pinning her body beneath his. "Four? Five hundred, maybe?" he asked, before kissing his way down her neck, making it almost impossible for her to think about sums, money, or anything other than the feel of the head of his cock sliding over her wet folds, seeking entrance.

"That might be pocket change to you," she managed to whisper as she rotated her hips, meeting his first thrust, "but I _need_ that money."

"And it will be taken care of," he murmured into her ear, nipping at her earlobe, "I promise." He laced his fingers with hers' then and pushed down, like a little push up, until he was looking down at her, his gaze holding hers' as their bodies moved in that dance as old as time, her body answering his, meeting and retreating in slow, controlled movements until his eyes rolled back and his head fell back and he let out a roar of triumph as she felt his entire body go still as he emptied himself into her.

* * *

"So what _do_ you do?" she asked from where she was sitting on the kitchen counter, watching him make a smoothie. He definitely needed something to keep his strength up if he was going to keep her in bed all day as he certainly planned to do.

"I work with Reebok, Gatorade…marketing and stuff…nothing very interesting," he replied, keeping his gaze pinned on the banana he was peeling so that she wouldn't see that tell tale tic beneath his eye that always gave him away when he lied. He wasn't sure why he was still avoiding the truth with her. All he knew was last night, and this morning, had been perfect and the last thing he wanted was for her to think he was bragging about being some kind of big shot. That was also the reason he didn't want her in the store today. Being seen leaving her place once might be ignored by the locals who generally respected his privacy but twice would set tongues wagging.

"Athletic shit huh?" she munched on the corner of a piece of well buttered toast as her long, bare legs swinging free, drumming against the cupboard doors. "I've always wanted to be good at something…baseball or something but I've always had two left feet and I throw like such a girl," she explained with a grin.

"So you don't even watch much sports?" he asked, turning to peer into the fridge which seemed to be stocked with mostly frozen dinners and little cups of yogurt, of which he took two to add to the smoothie.

"Not really," she admitted, dropping down from the counter and walking towards the fridge. Sidney turned to watch her bend over and grab another one of the yogurt cups. She looked a hell of a lot better in his dress shirt than he did. "I'm more into the live music scene. Not that you'd know anything about that around here," she added, wrinkling her cute button of a nose as she turned back toward him. "I think that they roll up and hide the streets here after nine," she smirked.

"Here, yeah. But down in Halifax…there's all kinds of places to go see bands. Do you like Celtic stuff?" he asked, turning the blender on and staring at its' swirling contents to distract himself from the way she was licking the back of the foil covering with her pointed pink tongue.

"Yeah, it's alright I guess. I like heavy stuff…Nickelback, Hinder, Spinnertte, Finger Eleven…."

"You like Finger Eleven?" He grinned at her, "me too." She smiled warmly back at him and Sidney felt his chest tighten. Damn, this woman had him so wrapped around her little finger that even the smallest things she did and said made him giddy like a fucking school kid. The words were right there, right on the tip of his tongue, but he bit down on them and forced his attention back to the blender and its' contents. He opened the nearest cupboard and pulled out two tall glasses and began to pour the thick liquid into it.

Sid turned to hand one to her but she was just suddenly there, her tongue swirling around a spoon and his hands began to shake as he held the glasses just a little too tight. He almost dropped them when she pressed her chest to his back to reach around him to drop the spoon and the now empty cup into the sink. He was wearing another one of her grandfather's shirts and she slid her arms up beneath the shirt and ran her fingertips over his stomach.

"I bet you don't work at a desk," she purred as pressed her cheek to his back. "I've never, ever seen abs like yours before," she added before letting him go, though it was too late, far too late, to stop what she'd started. He'd gotten hard as soon as he'd felt the soft mounds of her breasts pressed against his back. Was there any end to wanting her?

He put the glasses down and turned, cupping her face in his hands and capturing her mouth with his. He drank from her mouth, tasting the strawberry yogurt she'd just been eating on her tongue. He kissed her until he felt her body melt against his, until her hands slid up under the shirt he was wearing to pull her closer. He kissed her until she wrapped one of her legs around the back of his thigh and she whimpered into his mouth and then he picked her up and put her back onto the counter and stepped into the space between her thighs. He kissed his way down her neck as he undid the buttons of his dress shirt until he could suckle on her breasts.

He was more tender with them now than he had been, hearing in her ragged intake of breath that they were more than a little tender from his attentions the night before. He ran his tongue over and around her nipples while she gripped the edge of the counter and he dropped his borrowed shorts to the floor and slid into her warm, slick pussy. That too was tender, he could tell as she gasped and suddenly went still.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, telling himself he could stop, though god only knew he didn't want to.

"Just…just wait," she whispered, leaning her forehead to the top of his head. "Just…give me a minute," she added, crossing her ankles behind the small of his back. "God…I almost came," she snorted a moment later, looking down at him with those sexy dark eyes of hers', that cat that got the cream smile on her face that made him want to do things to her that would make her scream. "I can't let you get me going that easily, you'll start to think you don't have to work at it," she added, her fingers trailing through his hair, and then down his cheek, stopping to caress the new, pink, scar that bisected his chin before she pressed her lips to his and dug her heels encouragingly into his ass.

* * *

"What's this one from?" she asked, her fingertip tracing a small, white scar that crisscrossed the knuckles on the back of his hand, leaving droplets of water where her fingers touched. They were lounging deep in steaming water in the antique claw foot tub in the main bathroom, Tabby leaning back against his broad, solid chest, her hair tied up at the nape of her neck.

"A fight, I think," he replied, as if he couldn't quite remember.

"A fight?" she repeated, turning to squint up at him. He smiled down at her, all dimples and boyish handsomeness that was so cute she wanted to reach up and grab his cheeks and squeeze them. "You don't look like much of a fighter."

"Oh yeah?" he grinned, reaching up to brush the back of his hand affectionately down her cheek. "And what does a fighter look like?"

"Well, in _my_ experience," she grinned, turning completely over so that she was straddling him, "they've got tats and biker boots and…well, yeah, you've definitely got the muscles," she added, running her hands over his wide shoulders. The water was nearly scalding but everywhere she touched him, chicken skin appeared.

"Where have you been hanging out?" he laughed, his big hands settling around her waist, "dive bars?"

"Bars anyway," she replied brightly before leaning forward press her lips lightly against his. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't like to sleep much at night," she added wantonly, lowering herself over him as his cock began to harden.

"I had ummm, noticed," he managed to croak out before his eyes rolled back and a long, low moan slid from his soft, full lips. She watched as his face transformed, his playful expression melting into something almost primitive as he opened his eyes again and regarded her with something more akin to raw desire.

"Complaining?" she asked, the pointed tip of her tongue flicking at his ear as she held herself just so the only the tip of his cock was inside of her. Patrick shook his head and swallowed audibly. "Good because I don't think I've ever met anyone who could keep up with me before," she added, settling down over him and letting out a long, contented sigh.

He filled her completely, almost to the point of pain, but not quite. It was just…right, she thought as she felt his big hands slide down to cup her ass, helping her to move as she slid up, almost to the point of having him slip out before sliding back down.

'_Christ'_ she thought, '_he is so fucking sexy'_. It was the way he looked up at her, all determined, like it was some kind of battle they were in, and it was, for him, she knew. He was determined that she would orgasm at least twice before he would let himself go. She'd never had a man like this. Even Damon, who, with his mischievous, devious sort of nature could make bedroom antics fun, still cared more about looking good during the act than whether she'd felt good. Patrick was determined that she would feel….

Oh and she did, she knew, as she cried out, past the point of caring that gallons of water was sloshing over the side of the old tub onto the equally old linoleum floor. She howled his name as he thrust up into her, his arms now holding her, supporting her, his hand cradling the back of her head as the strength of the orgasm bowed her back as if she were no more than a string, pulled taught, on a bow.

She felt tears stinging in her eyes as he cradled her now boneless body against his strong one, whispering soft words that she couldn't really hear, not past the rushing and pounding of blood in her veins. 'This is new', she thought as she fought for breath and for control over her emotions. To his credit, Patrick didn't seem to mind, but still….

"I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to pull back from him but his huge, muscular arms held her like a vise. "I don't know where that came from, I guess it's just…it's just…."

"It's just that you've just had the best sex of your life?" he asked quietly as he allowed her enough movement so that she was looking down into his face, her hair somehow having coming free at some point falling around them like an ebony waterfall. She felt her cheeks heat up, felt the tips of her ears burn but he wouldn't let her break the hold his gaze had on hers'. He reached up, his one arm still strong enough to hold her exactly where she was, and he cupped her chin to keep her looking at him. "I know, because that's what I've been having since I got here."

* * *

"So what was with the suit?" she asked as she pulled the sheet up to her chin.

"Have you ever seen that movie…the one with Vince Vaughn, Swingers?" he asked, and she nodded. "So when we go there, me and the boys, we get dressed up and do all the high roller, VIP stuff, you know? Straight to the front of the line, buy entire bottles instead of one drink," he explained, and she, nodding seemed to understand.

"So you came…straight from the airport?" she asked and he nodded, and then, realizing she couldn't see him the way their bodies were aligned, he whispered 'yes' into her ear and then nipped at her earlobe. She giggled and then fell silent. It wasn't the kind of silence that was uncomfortable, though. It was the kind of silence that just said she was thinking and Sidney couldn't help but think he preferred this to that inane chatter so many women did when they were around him, like his silence was deafening or something.

"I don't think I've ever done anything this…decadent," she sighed as he drew her warm, soft body back against his. He would have preferred the bigger bed in the room down the hall, but she'd insisted, again, on the cramped, lumpy bed in the tiny room with the big window. Not that he really did mind, considering it meant they had no choice but to be very, very close.

"What's that?" he asked, twirling her hair around the finger of one hand while the other one, the one she was using as a pillow, went slowly to sleep.

"Spent the entire day doing…well I was going to say nothing, but…." He could hear the grin in her voice and felt his expression mirror the sentiment. He wasn't sure when he'd had as good a work out as she'd provided him today, but it did feel like a day spent doing…next to nothing. "I hope I didn't piss off too many of Gramp's regulars," she added, reaching up to disentangle his hand from her hair and, lacing her fingers with his, brought his hand down to lean her chin on. Thusly captured, Sidney allowed himself to lay his head down on the shared pillow and bury his face in her hair. She smelled like citrus and fruit and cake and it made his stomach grumble.

"I'm sure they'll live. Me, on the other hand, I'm starving," he added a bite to her shoulder to underline his point. "Do you have anything around here that isn't fruit, yogurt or a frozen dinner?" he asked hopefully as visions of grilled steak and loaded baked potatoes filled his head.

"Oh you mean _meat_, don't you?" she asked in that tone she seemed to get right before she did something to him that would make him squirm. He was almost afraid to agree. "See," she neatly rolled over so that she was facing him and slid her leg over his and placed a kiss in the centre of his chest, "I've always found that the more meat a man eats, the quicker her runs out of…steam and goes to sleep on me and…I'm not sleepy," she added, looking up at him through her eyelashes with that 'you know what I mean' look on her face.

Part of him wanted to ask if she ever got tired, but he thought better of it. After all, he could hardly declare himself tired of her as his body reacted to just that come hither look in her eyes. Having let go of him, his hands were free to fist themselves in her abundant, dark hair as he kissed her and kept on kissing her until she was moaning into his mouth and her body was making urgent little movements against his.

This time, as he took her, he did so slowly and methodically. He held her face cradled in his hands so he could watch the torrent of emotions pass through her eyes. He studied her like he did a playbook, memorizing the expressions, the twinges and the other subtle and not so subtle changes in body language that meant he was doing something that pleased her. He memorized the way her breathing hitched as the head of his cock stroked over her g-spot. He noticed the way she would draw in her bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes would flutter closed just before her breathing became shallow, which was a sure precursor to the orgasm spilling over her like a tidal wave. He stored these little tidbits of information away, planning to use them again and again in days to come.

When her head tipped back, he kissed her throat, the underside of her chin and waited and watched until she gave him her mouth again. When she arched her back off of the bed, he withdrew entirely and turned his attention to her breasts, licking and suckling at them until she made those little noises in her throat and reached for his cock with her hands and only then did he take her hips in his hands and slid himself balls deep in her sweet, warm, wet little pussy and started it all again until she was shuddering and crying in his arms, made weak by the strength of her own orgasm before he allowed himself to, at last, take his own pleasure.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Tabby looked down at the page in front of her and realized that she'd been doodling hearts and flowers on the pad beside the cash register for the last hour. With a derisive snort, she shook her head and put the pen down.

"It's _just_ a fling," she told herself quietly, but firmly, rolling her eyes at the romantic ideas swimming around in her head. Turning, she picked up the book she'd been trying to read and opened it up, but she found she couldn't quite focus on the words on the page. The bell over the door jangled and she looked up, almost relieved to have something to do, but instead her heart skipped a beat to find herself staring into Patrick's gold flecked hazel eyes. "Damn it," she hissed under her breath. He'd only been gone from her bed for a few hours and she had just realized that she'd actually been missing him. "What's that?" she asked, tearing her gaze away from his long enough to notice that he was carrying what looked suspiciously like a toolbox. She watched him walk up the aisle towards her in a faded grey and black t-shirt that clung to his wide shoulders and his muscular arms and cargo shorts that stopped just above his knees, leaving his heavily muscled calves bare. At least he was wearing shoes this time and not flip flops, she thought as he lifted the aged metal box and placed it on the counter in front of her.

"This…this is a toolbox," he grinned, snapping the lid open and revealing a number of hammers, wrenches and screw drivers inside. "Well don't look so surprised," he added as he leaned over the counter to collect a kiss, his soft lips brushing hers' briefly, "you said the place is falling down and I thought, considering you insisted on being open today, I would see what I could fix while you're working."

"Is there anything you _can't_ do?" she asked, leaning in for another kiss, her lips lingering on his before she put her feet back on the floor and went back to regarding him with slightly amusement.

"What? You think I can't swing a hammer?" he asked, flexing one of his biceps, which made Tabby lick her lips to be sure no drool had actually escaped before she laughed and shook her head.

"No," she admitted, crossing her arms in front of herself, mostly as a means of stopping herself from ravaging him right then and there. "Quite the opposite in fact, I was just thinking that I was going to miss out on all the sweaty goodness," she grinned, moving around to the front of the counter and sliding her hand up, underneath the hem of his t-shirt and running her fingertips over his stomach, making him shiver.

"You keep that up," he said, pitching his voice low and leaning in so that his peppermint laced breath blew cool across her cheek, "and I'll be bending you over that counter and every single fisherman on the lake will hear you screaming." Now it was Tabby's turn to shiver as he brushed a strand of hair back from her neck and dipped his head down to place a tormentingly soft kiss on her neck. Tabby closed her eyes and let out a ragged breath, at which he chuckled, his hand cupping her chin as his laughing eyes gazed affectionately down into hers'. "I'll be working on that banister, if you decide to take a break," he told her before pressing his lips tenderly on one eyelid and then the other before he took his tool box and went into the house.

Tabby watched him go and felt her body leaning after him, eager for more of his physical attention, to bask in the glow of his bright, boyish smile, but just as she was about give in to temptation, that damn bell over the door made that annoying sound and a group of slouch hat wearing fisherman tramped in. She let out a sigh, and with one, longing look towards the door he'd disappeared through, Tabby went back to work.

* * *

Sidney felt the wet cold of the glass on his back and smiled, letting go of the loose banister to turn around and envelop her in his arms.

"I thought it was about time for a lunch break," she smiled up at him, the tall, cool glass of lemonade still in her hand but now pressed to his chest. She didn't seem to mind that he was coated with a fine film of sweat and wood dust as he held her, looking down into her chocolate brown eyes. "I made some sandwiches," she added, glancing over her shoulder, but he wasn't quite ready to let her go. Not yet.

"What? No thank you for all this hard work? Did you know this railing was almost ready to fall? You could have been hurt," he added, taking the glass from her hand and washing the sawdust from his mouth before leaning in for a kiss. Her lips were cool and wet and sweet. She must have taken a sip from the glass. "A couple of these stair boards are a bit loose too," he added, reaching out with his toe to push on a weak seam in the stair to prove his point.

"So do they teach carpentry in marketing class these days?" she asked, still apparently content to stay in the circle of his arm while he drank the ice cold lemonade.

"I wouldn't know," he replied, before realizing his mistake. 'That's a good one Crosby, can't even keep your lies straight now', he thought as he laughed at himself. "It's more uh…business management and no, my dad taught me everything I know," he added, thinking of all the times he'd sat right beside his father reading the direction from a 'how to' book about plumbing while his dad tried to fix a leak so they wouldn't have to call out a plumber and spend the money that had been set aside to send him to some summer hockey camp or buy him yet another pair of skates because he'd grown out of the last ones.

"I didn't think these hands felt like they knew hard work," she pointed out, her hand slipping into the one that was holding her hip against his. She ran her fingers along the palm of his hand, causing a ticklish feeling that made him shudder. "They're not exactly soft," she continued, turning those dark eyes of hers' up at him, one eyebrow raised, "but they're not exactly the hands of a guy who uses tools all day."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," he grinned, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Now, about those sandwiches," he suggested, moving the topic toward less dangerous ground. "I didn't think you could cook, and I don't remember seeing any cold cuts or anything in the fridge."

"Hey, I can cook when I want to," she pursed her lips at him as she led him down the staircase and towards the kitchen. "But I hope you like egg salad and cucumber because you're right, there's no meat in the fridge." Sidney wrinkled his nose but his stomach had begun to think his throat had been cut and made a growling noise at the thought of bread and mayonnaise. "Buuuut," she continued, giving his hand a squeeze before letting it go as they entered the kitchen, "I thought I'd run down to the store while you're cleaning up later and get some steaks, maybe some potatoes for later. As a kind of thank you, for today," she added taking down a plate from the cupboard and sliding it onto the small wooden table at the back of the kitchen. Sidney slid into the chair behind that plate and smiled up at her.

"Well I was kind of hoping you'd scrub my back," he growled, reaching out to capture her wrist in his hand and pulling her back toward him and the table. "But that sounds good and then maybe, later, we'll try that big bed in the master upstairs." He watched her grin fade and she began to struggle not to cry. He'd crossed a line and he knew it right away but he'd thought about this while he'd been working on the stairs and as he pulled Tabby down onto his lap and put his arms around her, he chose his words carefully. "It's not like they'd mind, don't you think?" he began and when she only shrugged he continued from the mental list of points that he'd come up with. "I mean, if your grandma was anything like mine, she'd hate the thought of you sleeping in that little tiny room all alone, never mind making a guest sleep in that little bed too. _Not_ that I mind being that close to you," he added, squeezing his arms tighter around her and waiting until that comment made her smile. Tabby nodded, but he could see tears in her eyes all the same, which she quickly dashed away with the back of her hand.

"You know what's so stupid about this," she sniffed, blinking to keep the tears back and failing, "is that I didn't know them…well no, that's wrong. I just…I hadn't seen them a lot, not lately and it's more like…it's like I feel guilty," she explained and Sidney felt his chest swell as she let him see her in this vulnerable moment, as she shared her honest feelings with him. He'd been with so many women who were so pretentious and fake that this moment felt new and raw and he couldn't help but feel protective of this woman.

"They must have loved you a lot," he whispered to her as he cradled her against his body, "to leave this all to you." He didn't know if she was an only child or not, and maybe they hadn't had anyone else to leave it to, but it felt like the right thing to say.

"Honestly…I always thought I was a real pain in their asses when I was here but…but yeah, I loved them a lot too." She turned and buried her head in his shoulder and Sid held her, rubbing her back and whispering soft things that he hoped sounded comforting and he hoped she didn't see his face right now, because he didn't think that he could hide the enormous smile on his face.

* * *

Tabby looked up from lighting the candles at the sound of his bare feet on the deck and smiled at the sight that met her eyes. He was just wearing those cargo shorts, low on his hips, and nothing else. She let her greedy gaze roam from flat stomach, over the well defined six pack, up to his wide, round shoulders and further up, to that boyish, easy smile that made her heart do a little flip. He was simply beautiful, like Michelangelo's David come to life she thought, except with a much, much bigger….

"You did all this while I was in the shower?" he surveyed her handiwork with a surprised grin, still toweling off that dark, wavy hair of his, before draping that towel over one of his round, muscular shoulders and reaching to put his arms around her waist. She turned into him then, allowing him to easily pull her into his embrace, even lifting her lips for his kiss. His mouth took hers' softly, gently before he let her go, almost reluctantly, to admire the table she'd laid out.

She'd found a pale blue linen tablecloth and dark blue serviettes in one of the airing cupboards and bought matching navy blue candles to put in the centre of the table. The plain white china looked shiny and expensive against all of the blue, and Tabitha thought that even Martha Stewart would approve.

"I thought you could open the wine," she said, reaching for the bottle of cabernet she'd bought to go with the red meat and he took it from her in one hand, his fingers brushing over hers' sending a shock of electricity up her arm. "I think there's a corkscrew in one of the drawers," she pointed back into the kitchen, "and I'll just go watch the meat." She felt her cheeks get warm as his caramel coloured gaze held hers' for what seemed like too long, like he was already picturing her naked and they hadn't even eaten yet.

"You already put the meat on? Isn't that supposed to be the man's job?" he called out to her as she stepped out onto the deck where her grandfather's hibachi was sending smoke signals into the sky as the fat from the edges of the t-bone steaks dripped into the hot coals.

"Really? Do people really stick to those conventions anymore?" she called back, her stomach knotting already at the thought of all those muscles under her fingertips again. He was staying, again. He'd made it very clear that he intended on staying and she couldn't quite figure out why just thinking about it made her hands shake and her heart flutter in her chest. It was crazy to get this worked up about it, she told herself firmly. It was just sex after all. Good sex…no _mind blowing_ sex, but that was all.

"It's still that way in my house," he chuckled as he stepped out onto the deck, a glass of wine in each hand. "I don't think there's anything wrong with a few old fashioned notions, every now and again," he added, coming up behind her and pressing his lips to the nape of her neck, beneath where she'd tied up her hair, before putting her glass down on the table next to the hibachi and moving out to the railing on the edge of the deck and staring out at the lake.

'Oh fuck I love that ass', she thought as she stole a glance at the way that wide, muscular butt stretched the back of his shorts, especially as he leaned on the railing and bent at the waist. Tabitha licked her lips as she remembered grabbing a hold of all that hard, muscular flesh to pull him deeper….

"So what, you think the woman stays home, makes bread and has babies?" she asked, poking at the steaks to determine how cooked they were before putting down her fork and picking up her wine glass. The dark red liquid was rich and tasted faintly of cherries as she let it slide over her tongue.

"And gets her nails done and spends all the money I bring home…yeah, something like that," he smirked as he turned to face her and she was, once again, faced with all that smooth, tanned flesh. Her gaze went to those small, pink buds on his chest and she bit down on her bottom lip as the memory came back to her of the way it had made him moan out load and writhe beneath her when she'd licked and sucked at them.

"Fuck, you _are_ old fashioned. I always thought that if…_if_ I had a baby, I'd leave my…significant other at home and go back to work," she told him and watched him raise his eyebrows in what she was sure was mock surprise. "Of course that was back when I thought I was going to be a high powered criminal lawyer," she added, grinning shyly at him as he tried not to laugh.

"So what happened to that?" he asked, suddenly serious as she stood near, but apart from him. All that skin was just too inviting, too tempting. She was half afraid to get too close to him, afraid she wouldn't be able to control herself. It seemed undignified somehow to want something as much as she wanted to run her hands over the smooth hairless skin of his chest. So instead she gripped her wine glass with both hands and kept her distance.

"I couldn't…that is, my family couldn't afford law school. That was never really an option…," her voice trailed away as she pushed back that old pain. That was no one's fault she reminded herself.

"What about scholarships? Bursaries?" he asked, as if he knew something about it. He didn't look old enough to know anything about college other than toga parties and keggers that seemed to make up most of first year, but Tabby told herself she was being unfair. He was only asking the question.

"Yeah, there were a couple of those, but they would have hardly covered tuition for the first year and you don't just go straight into law school," she explained with a shrug, and then turned towards the hissing and spitting meat, partly for fear of it burning and wasting the thirty dollars she'd spent on the steaks and partly to hide the tension she could feel in her face as that old disappointment reared its ugly head. "How do you like your meat?" she asked, poking at the smaller of the two steaks and deciding hers was just past moo'ing, just the way she liked it. She went to turn to him and found him already there, right behind her, his hand reaching for her shoulder.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to go," he said softly, his hand on the curve of her shoulder, pulling her into him, until his arms were wrapped around her and she was pressed against that wide expanse of bare, warm flesh. He smelled like lavender soap she had in the bath upstairs and just vaguely of something more primal and male. She closed her eyes and breathed that scent in, letting it fill her head and soothe her nerves.

"It is what it is," she said at last, turning her face up to his so that he could see that she was properly grateful for his sympathy. "Now, about that meat, before it burns."

"I kind of like it well done," he admitted, shrugging and grinning as she wrinkled her nose up at the idea of letting expensive meat like this turn into a lump of charcoal.

"Alright, then you babysit that while I put everything else out on the table," she sighed and, putting her steak on a plate, went back in, feeling the tug of that secretive sort of happy smile on her face.

* * *

They stood, side by side at the sink, washing the last of the dishes in the semi dark, the only light the one directly above their heads. As the drying rack filled and the sink emptied, their conversation began to die and the playful energy between them began to change. He could feel it in the way her body swayed into his as she passed him one of the salad bowls, and in the way that she glanced over to watch him stretch up to put it away in the cupboard. The clear admiration in her gaze made his pulse race but then he'd been looking at her like that all night.

She was wearing a simple black dress with spaghetti straps that fell in a sort of a line down just past her knees. She wasn't wearing a bra, he'd become entirely too aware of that earlier when they'd been outside and a breeze had blown in off the lake. He'd found himself staring at her hardening nipples, aching to wrap his tongue around them and make her moan for him.

He also kept finding himself staring at the ink on her back, remembering how, while she'd slept, he'd traced its' fine lines lightly with his fingertip, studying it, wondering what it could tell him about her. He wanted to do that with the rest of her, now that all of that initial passionate explosion was over. It actually took effort not to touch her now and that work was getting more and more difficult by the moment.

As she handed him the last glass and reached in to pull the plug and together they watched the water and suds go down the drain, he could see her breath rate increase, her ample chest rising and falling a little too quickly not to notice. It seemed strange, considering that he'd almost lost count of how many times they'd already had sex that they should be shy around one another now, but he could feel his own blood pressure rising knowing that all that there was left to do was to walk up the stairs before he could peel her out of that dress and lay her down on that big brass bed….

"I should check on the coals…I don't want anything going up in smoke while…while…." She couldn't even say it, or look at him, he realized as she turned to head out to the deck.

"I took the hibachi down to the grass and made sure it was out," he told her, reaching to grab her arm with his hand, his fingers snapping easily around her small wrist. She stood there for a long moment, staring down at where his fingers were locked around her wrist and then she turned her big dark eyes up at him and he could see it then. She was afraid.

He hadn't really thought about it that way, not until he could see his own feelings reflected in her doe in the headlights gaze, but he knew what she was feeling. 'I could seriously fall for this woman' he knew, or maybe it was even too late but that fear wasn't enough to hold him back. So he stepped into her, his other hand cupping the small of her back and pulling her to him so that when he kissed her, their bodies were pressed together and there would be no mistaking that he wanted her, here, now if need be.

He was prepared to say that they didn't have to do anything; that he'd be happy to just sleep with her, even if that was a fucking lie, but her body immediately melted to his and as her tongue swept along his bottom lip, he hoped he wouldn't have to speak that lie aloud.

Reaching over to turn the light out above the sink, he took her hand in his and together they walked through the old house and up the stairs that he'd spent the day fixing. Sidney could feel that sort of pleasant ache left from a job well done and it made him think about those days that he and his teammates had spent at Army boot camp and how he'd felt the same after a day doing rigorous training. It was a good kind of burn and he felt less guilty for not hitting the gym.

As they reached the top of the stairs, he could feel her hesitate, her hand slightly pulling on his and he followed her gaze to the double doors at the top of the landing. They could discuss it again, he knew and he would probably be persuasive enough to win the argument, but he was also a little tired and a little full and more than a little impatient to have her naked and his arms. So instead of arguing, Sidney let go of her hand, took a step back and swept her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way, kicking the door open and walking across the woven mats that covered the floor. He deposited her on the bed and she lay there, blinking at him like an owl.

Whether she hadn't believed him or was just shocked, he wasn't sure, but he also didn't feel much like discussing it either. Instead, Sidney undid the snap on his shorts, unzipped them and let them fall around his ankles. Kicking them aside, he crawled onto the bed beside her and slid his hand up her thigh, taking the dress with him.

"I'm tired," he said simply as she continued to stare at him with wide eyes, "and I intend on making you have at least three orgasms before I go to sleep so take this off," he added slipping one hand beneath one of her spaghetti straps and causing it to slide off of her shoulder.

She sat up and pulled the dress over her head and handed it to him and he dropped it on the floor beside his shorts and then, reverently but eagerly, bent to his work, taking the weight of her breasts in his hands and wrapping his lips around one of her nipples, nipping and sucking on it until her hands dug into his hair and he heard her moan out loud.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Sidney woke to the sound of songbirds and reached across the bed for her, but came up empty. The indentation in the mattress where she had been curled up next to him was even cold. Rolling over onto his back, Sid closed his eyes and thought about going back to sleep but he felt this sort of tug, internally, like he had to get up, he had to be with her. Tugging his shorts back on, he headed down the stairs, wondering at the internal compass he seemed to have when it came to this woman.

He followed his nose to where the coffee pot was just finishing percolating and he filled a mug and headed out to the deck where Tabby was standing near the railing, wearing what appeared to be no more than his faded blue t-shirt. She had another one of those big canvases on a stand but she was staring out over the lake, the rough sketch on the canvas apparently forgotten.

Sidney looked at the sketch, a doe and a fawn on the bank of the lake, all blues and greens except for the deer. The doe looked straight out of the canvas at him and Sidney thought the look reminded him of his mother, protective and perpetually worried.

"This is good," he offered, only to have her clap her hand across his mouth.

"Shhh," she hissed, "you'll scare them away." Sidney smiled against her hand and nodded, silently agreeing before she'd let go of him. Keeping his lips tightly sealed, Sidney moved up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. Together they watched the fawn crop at the grass, watched over by his mother, her ears like satellites, twitching and rotating towards every sound.

Sidney stood, as still as a lamp post, watching the deer and grinning to himself. He liked this. He liked that there was no pressure to talk, not about hockey, or about his plans for the rest of the summer, or next year, or the next ten years. Not about the things that some of the guys' girlfriends liked to talk about, clothes and manicures and babies. There was none of that. Just the two of them surrounded by silence and nature and Sid felt…relieved.

Not a lot of people understood how much he enjoyed just sitting, on his own, thinking, and sometimes, even better, _not_ thinking. Tanger was good for that, at least when Max wasn't around. Flower was the best for that. MAF could sit beside him for hours and say nothing. Dupes could, almost, but he always needed something else. Dupes needed music, TV, reading; something other than nothing in the background. There always seemed to be something going on in his life and the few, brief moments of silence were like little gifts in his otherwise hectic life. Like right now and Tabby seemed to enjoy silence as much as he did.

Finally, the doe's ears swiveled towards where a loon was just landing on the lake and, with a single spring, she was off into the brush, her baby at her heels. They watched her white tail disappearing into the trees like a flag and then Tabby let out a contented sounding sigh.

"I wish I'd brought my camera," she muttered, staring down at an incomplete sketch she'd made on plain white paper done in sweeping, loose strokes and then up at the rough colour sketch on the canvas. He watched her cute little nose wrinkle as she tilted her head to the side and stared at it like she wished it would change before their eyes.

"I think it's good," he reiterated his previous observation and she narrowed her eyes and made a face.

"It is _not_ good. It's awful actually," she sighed, packing up her paints and taking the canvas off of the easel as if she was done with it.

"Can't you go back to it? Finish it off? I can go inside, leave you alone, I'm sure I can find something to do," he offered, and she laughed and shook her head.

"I might…later, after I've thought about it for a while. But believe me, it's not good," she said again as she stepped into the house.

"I think my mom would like something like that in the house," he offered and Tabby turned her skeptical gaze on him and raised a single eyebrow. "I really think she would and I'm not just saying that because it's way better than anything I can do. I mean…kindergarten kids can do better than anything I can do. You should see, at Christmas, we have to do these…decoration things…for the trees and mine…mine is always the worst. Give me a hot glue gun and the first thing I do is stick my fingers together," he added honestly to which she tried, but failed to hide a grin. "Honest, I'm like…I could be the least artistic person I know. But Max…his are always really cool and it makes me feel guilty that mine go for the most," Sid stopped, realizing he was heading into territory that was going to require an explanation, one that he wouldn't be able to give without her knowing that he'd been lying this entire time.

"Go for? You sell them?" she pulled a face and Sid could practically see the gears turning in her brain.

"It's…it's kinda like a bachelor auction really," Sid mumbled, feeling the tips of his ears began to burn as he realized how egotistical that might sound. Luckily Tabby didn't seem to take it that way. He watched as she bit down on her bottom lip in an effort not to laugh out loud.

"You mean women actually _pay_ for your services?" she asked, fighting to keep a straight face as she back peddled away from him. It sounded ridiculous when she said it out loud, despite some of the things he'd read and seen online about just what women would actually give and pay for just one night….

"Hey, I didn't hear you complaining about getting it for free last night," he grinned, reaching for her, but she stepped back, just out of his reach.

"Free? I seem to remember plying you with wine and meat and…." Sidney closed the gap between the two of them and swept her into his arms, covering her mouth with his, a little more aggressively than he intended to. She didn't seem to mind. She was still grinning when he pulled back enough to draw breath. "Now I suppose you're going to want bacon and eggs and pancakes to pay for that," she teased, her eyes full of playful light as she grinned up at him.

"Well I have to keep my strength up somehow," he smiled back at her, brushing her hair back from her face as he felt his heart melting under the wattage of her smile, "because you keep draining me of all my strength."

"Oh really? Because I don't think it was me that doing the waking up at three this morning for another round of…." Sidney captured her mouth again, and laughing, kissed her into silence.

* * *

Tabby stared at the unfinished canvas in front of her, a paintbrush still in her hand and several brand new tubes of paint yet unopened beside her. When she'd seen the doe and its' offspring from the window in the early hours of the dawn, the end result of the painting had been so clear to her, but what she was looking at now seemed nowhere near what she was seeing in her head.

"So what if you're not Robert Bateman," she scolded herself as her gaze followed her choppy strokes, the greens melding together to form a tree that, while it didn't exactly look super realistic, the feeling was there. That's what they were trying to instill in her back the Emily Carr, they…the 'design scholars' or so they called themselves that were always trying to lead her away from what they termed 'hyper realism'.

That was just one of the reasons she was thinking of not returning to Art College in the fall. Firstly it seemed like a waste of money. Other than maybe in marketing, really, what was she going to do with art that she wasn't already being paid by Harlequin to do? And secondly, though it was certainly nice of him to say so, Tabby sincerely doubted that Patrick's or anyone else's mother for that matter, would really pay for something like what was staring back at her now.

Tabitha reached for a tube of yellow and squeezed some onto palette and started to mix it with white as she ruminated on the last reason that had her contemplating leaving art school. She hated being told what her art should look like. It wasn't the criticism she was afraid of, it was that it seemed to her that they were always trying to put her into a category she didn't want to be in.

"Well there's no one here to tell you what to do now,' she reminded herself as she raised the brush to highlight the green. Patrick had gone to get some tool from home and some paint they'd picked out together online. He wouldn't be back for at least an hour. "Paint what you see Tabs," she told herself firmly. 'From the heart' she added silently, taking a deep breath before touching her brush to the canvas.

* * *

It was the scream, and his cat like reflexes, that saved Sidney from getting his skull caved in as Taylor came down through the door to the garage swinging five- iron. Ducking and side stepping her not so stealthy attack, he managed to grab a hold of her before she put the gold club through the windshield of his SUV too.

"What the fuck Taylor?" he snarled, wrestling the club from her hand while she stood staring at him, wide eyed.

"You're not even supposed to be home! I thought you were being broken into!" his sibling insisted, going from screeching banshee to defensives and prickly teenager in a heartbeat. "You're lucky I didn't call 911," she added, her hands on her hips, flipping her long, sandy blonde hair over her shoulder and giving her older brother one of her patented 'I can't believe I'm related to you' looks. "That would have been interesting watching you explain to the cops why you're running around at…," she glanced at her watch and then back up at him, quizzically. "Why are you running around without a shirt and in flip flops at eight in the morning? Are you trying out for a part as a werewolf in the new Twilight film or something?" she added sarcastically. "As if you haven't got enough cougars sniffing around."

"Do you think I'd get a part?" he asked, striking one of those muscle men poses that made his pecs and shoulders appear bigger than they actually are and watched as Taylor shuddered and rolled her eyes back in her head. He also seriously considered lying but as much as his little sister could be a royal pain in the ass sometimes, if it was one thing he tried not to do with her, it was that. She had enough to put up with just being his sister, not to mention people physically pushing her aside to get to him and never feeling like she could do enough to get her own father's attention. "There's this girl…woman," he stumbled over his words, the vision of Tabby as he'd left her, sitting in front of her easel again at his insistence, in nothing but his faded old shirt made it difficult to talk.

"Huh…well that will make Troy happy. Finally, proof that his one and only son isn't gay," Taylor smirked and tilted her head to one side. She was clearly baiting him and under normal circumstances he might have gone for the trap, but not today. Today he was too relaxed and too happy to fall for the bait his younger sibling had placed before him.

"Yeah, well, I'd rather you told him that than I'm going to be painting her stairs today," he muttered, half to himself, but with the full knowledge that Taylor would hear it and he wasn't surprised when there was almost a full minute of silence as she chewed on that particular morsel of information during which he began to poke through the paint brushes and stir sticks that were left over from when he'd bought this house. Certainly, he could have paid someone to paint his bedroom that deep chocolate colour he'd picked out, but then there would have been someone out there that didn't really know him telling people about the king sized four poster bed and the fifty inch LCD flat screen and the Jacuzzi tub in the en-suite. Those were things he didn't really need shared around. Not even for MTV cribs.

"You…are doing manual labour…for some…woman?" He turned back to face his sibling, an almost full can of primer and a large flat brush in his hand and smiled.

"Yep, so how about I give you a hundred not to tell dad I'm home and you keep looking after this place like I'm gone and we'll just leave it at that?" he said hopefully, walking over to his SUV and putting the can of primer and the brush in the back. That would save some money out of the funds that Tabby had forced on him.

"Wait, are you…? Are you playing house with this…_woman_?" Taylor hissed as she grabbed her brother's arm and Sidney smiled at the particular turn of phrase, 'playing house'. He tasted the words on his tongue and felt his smile get broader. It was kind of like that. Sidney extricated himself from his sister's grasp and headed into the house, ignoring the scandalized look on her face.

"I need to get some clothes. I'm pretty sure there are a couple fifties in my wallet in the glove box," he called over his shoulder as he pushed the door open at the top of the stairs. "Just take that though, 'cuz I need the rest for supplies. Thanks Tay Tay." He used his mother's pet name for Taylor and it made him smile, just a little ruthlessly. He didn't often afford his younger sister the opportunity to blackmail her older brother, not like, say MAF who gave his little sister Marylene every opportunity in the world to earn what was turning into a regular income for keeping information from his small town Catholic parents. It was about time that he gave Taylor a little ammo of her own, he thought as he headed up the stairs towards his bedroom, trying to decide just how many changes of clothes he should bring with him and what Tabby might think if he came with a whole suitcase full.

* * *

"I want to buy it."

Tabby smiled to herself as she felt his arms slide around her waist. She was standing in front of the canvas, brush still in hand, but there didn't seem to be anywhere that needed another stroke. It was good, not great, but it _was_ good. She could feel it in her gut. This was something she could be proud of.

"I didn't say it was for sale," she sighed, leaning back into the solid width of his chest, her gaze still locked on the scene depicted on the canvas in front of her. She'd struggled with the doe's eyes, but they felt right to her now, liquid brown with a soft light behind them and just the right mixture of alarm and a mother's fierce protectiveness.

"Well…I'd like to buy it, for my mom," he repeated, placing a kiss on her cheek. "I've missed a lot of Mother's Days. I have some making up to do." For some reason that made Tabby's chest get tight, and not only because she was missing her own mother back home in Vancouver. Normally a momma's boy would be something she would avoid like the plague but Patrick didn't strike her as a one of those guys who lived his life by his mother's rules. As if reading her mind, he continued. "She sacrificed a lot for me. Not just for me but…she's done a lot and she never asks for anything…ever and no matter what I do, she's always there. I'm sure you know how it is," he added, withdrawing enough to allow her to lay down her paint brush and palette and turn to put her arms around his neck.

"How can a girl resist a boy who loves him mommy?" she whispered against his lips and he managed to both kiss her and grin at the same time. He smelled of an expensive man's cologne that was both spicy and musky and he was wearing a crisp, white dress shirt and a pair of jeans that hugged his muscular thighs tightly. "And one all dressed up like this…you're not painting my stairs in those are you?"

"I thought, considering it was Sunday and I don't know about you but I haven't had much to eat yet, I would take you out for brunch before _we_ paint." He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips, brushing them over the back of her hand before leading her towards the stairs in question. "So why don't you go upstairs, have a shower and slip into one of those pretty dresses you have and I'll…uh…get the plans in motion."

"Plans?" she asked, raising her eyebrow at him but he gave her a firm pat on the ass that sent her up the stairs.

"Less questions, more getting ready," he laughed as she made her way up the stairs. She allowed herself one, last look down the stairs at the way that white dress shirt looked against his tanned skin, opened at the throat to reveal all of that thick neck of his that begged to be bitten. "Hurry up," he called and Tabby turned and headed into the shower, wondering if she still had some paint thinner in the bathroom to help take off all of the paint that decorated her skin up to the elbows.

* * *

"A helicopter?" Sidney watched with a certain amount of indulgent amusement as Tabby stared out the windshield at the waiting chopper, its' blades already beginning to rotate slowly as he pulled his Land Rover into the parking space. "Okay…seriously, who the hell has a helicopter waiting for them? You said brunch, I thought we were going to Ihop or something," she hissed as she turned to stare at him, obvious confusion mixed with patent disbelief all over her face.

"I've done a couple of favors for these guys so I thought I would cash one in. I saw you'd started to read Anne of Green Gables and I thought you might like to go there today," he added, which made her mouth fall open and her eyes get as wide as dinner plates.

"You're taking me to P.E.I. for brunch?" she managed, still staring at him with shock on her face. He shrugged and waited for to say something like 'no way' or that she was afraid of heights but instead she just started laughing. "A helicopter…what next?" she muttered, pushing the passenger door open and hopping out. Sidney pocketed his keys and followed her out, offering his hand as she stood staring at the rotating blades of the helicopter in front of them. "You don't own this right?" she asked suddenly, turning to him. Sidney shook his head. He'd had his first helicopter ride a year ago, when he'd brought the Stanley Cup home and he'd been wanting to go on another ride ever since, but he'd had no desire to buy one. Mario had suggested, with all the flying around he'd been doing the last couple of years that a private jet might be a good investment, or even flying lessons, but Sidney just hadn't found the time.

"Like I said, I did these guys a solid so it's kind of like a favor to me," he shouted as the blades began to rotate more quickly, making her long, dark hair whip around her like a living thing, her light, white cotton dress dance around her knees. She looked beautiful. Her tanned skin was the colour of burnt sugar, her dark hair gleaming in the early afternoon sunlight. "I think we'll just about make it for lunch if we leave now," he added, leaning in to speak directly into her ear. He felt her entire body shudder against his and was fairly certain it wasn't anticipation of getting in the chopper that was doing it. She looked over at him, a mischievous grin on her face and then she was tugging him toward the craft, keeping her head down, one hand holding her hair back.

The chopper pilot gave them both headphones and helped them buckle in and then he got behind the controls and the chopper immediately began to lift away from the concrete pad below. Sidney felt her hand reaching for his and he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her hand onto his knee. She had the cutest grin on her face that reached from ear to ear and he knew it wasn't the fact that they were now looking down at the buildings racing by below them that had his heart in his throat.

* * *

"I saw the TV movie when I was kid…maybe like three times," she whispered reverently as they stood outside of the house that had featured in it, gleaming, whitewashed in the sun, the famous P.E.I. marram grass high around them. "I read the book too, when I was like…twelve but the movie was so real," she sighed again and then turned to press her lips against his. "This makes me want to dye my hair red."

"Well I like your hair, just the way it is," he whispered back, reaching up to tuck an unruly strand that the wind kept picking up and setting free. "But you've got the freckles," he noticed, which made her scrunch up her nose.

"I can't believe we get to have tea at Ingleside!" she grinned, and wondered if she looked even vaguely like Joker from the Batman movies with this perma-grin she couldn't seem to get rid of. If she did, Patrick didn't seem to mind. In fact, he'd had his own tolerant expression on his face all day, like he was enjoying watching her enjoy herself.

"That _was_ the idea," he said quietly, keeping an eye on the other goggle eyed tourists, mostly families and older women. They seemed to be the only couple here, she thought, and she was willing to bet they were the only ones who'd arrived in a helicopter.

"I can't believe you did all this for me," she said, suddenly sobered by the extravagance of the idea.

"Hey, I'm enjoying this too," he smiled down at her, that indulgent smile making her feel like the centre of his universe, as if they were the only two people here and no one and nothing else in the entire world mattered. She ran her fingers along the sharp edge of his jaw and offered her lips up to his and felt her entire body turn into liquid fire as his mouth moved over hers', as his tongue stroked over hers' and his hand slid from the small of her back down to cup her ass through the thin fabric of her dress. He pressed against her and it was entirely clear that he was enjoying himself, very much. "Do you think, if we slipped off down to the those dunes," he whispered in her ear as he held her close, "that anyone would notice if we were gone for a little while?" Tabby shook her head, and putting her hand in his, lead him away from the tour group and through the high grasses and down towards a sandy path.

She bent to slip out of her sandals and felt his eyes on her. As she hooked her fingers through the straps of her shoes and straightened, she felt her entire body shiver under his hungry gaze. He held his hand out to her and once more she put her hand in his and he lead her down the beach until they found a sheltered spot between two dunes and that's where he pulled her down into the soft sand and pulled her close.

He kissed her eagerly, his tongue reaching for hers' as his hands slid up beneath the hem of her dress. He was tugging on her panties and she reached down to help him push them down. She wriggled out of them as he pushed his jeans down over his hips and freed his long, thick erection. Tabby looked down at him, lying there, waiting for her and felt like pinching herself. That handsome man with the boyish grin wanted her. He obviously wanted her very badly.

She slid down over him until he was entirely sheathed within her and she let out a little gasp. The skirt of her summer dress hid what they were doing from prying eyes, had there been any, but she knew the rapturous look on her face would tell the truth.

She almost didn't dare move. Just having him this deep inside of her, out here in the open and the fresh air filling her lungs all conspired to make her catch her breath. 'Stop thinking Tabs, just feel', she told herself as she felt his hands cup her bottom through her dress as he pushed himself up into her. "Feels so fucking good," she whispered to him and he smiled and pressed her body down over his as he thrust up into her once more and she was fairly sure he was saying that it felt the same to him.

* * *

His entire life was controlled, from the time he got up in the morning, until his preordained curfew during the season. Even in the off season it was rare for Sidney to experience any true level freedom so taking this kind of risk was exhilarating. It had to be that she was a free spirit, he thought as she settled her body over his. Her energy, her smile, her casualness was infectious and it made him forget, just for a moment, that he was Canada's golden boy. In this moment, with her dark eyes glazing over as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, he was throwing caution to the wind and just being.

He slide his hands up the cool length of her thighs and around to her ass, pulling her down over him as he pushed himself up inside of her and he heard her gasp and he thought that there was no more beautiful sound than anything that came out of her mouth when they made love.

"Feels so fucking good," she whispered and Sidney felt like he'd just won something. Oh it wasn't as good as the gold medal of the Cup but it was up there. He held her still and pushed upwards, filling her, feeling her body tense around his and knew that neither of them were going to last. He knew her body now almost as well as he did his own and he knew that the way her muscles squeezed around him now meant she was as close as he was. He knew when her bottom lip stuck out that way, like a child's pout, that she was fighting to hold off the orgasm, that she was literally trying to concentrate it away. He also knew, as he slid one hand up over the swell of her hip and up, up to capture her breast in his hand, that he could make her cum for him. He knew if he rolled her nipple just so between his finger and thumb and pushed her a little with his hand on the small of her back so that she was forced to rotate her hips and bring her clit into direct contact with his pelvic bone that she'd throw back her head and her entire body would shudder and his cock would be bathed in her hot, wet juices. "Oh…oh sweet jesus," she hissed, her eyes rolling back in her head as she dug her fingernails into his shoulders. There would be sand in places that would be incredibly uncomfortable for the rest of the day but he didn't care as the tug and suck of her muscles milked him dry and his own body trembled as shook with the strength of his own orgasm.

Even if they'd been caught then, even if he'd opened his eyes to find Commissionaire Bettman and his father standing over him, Sidney thought it would have been worth it just to see the grin on Tabby's face. Reaching up, he cupped her cheek in his hand, those three words on the tip of his tongue as she turned to press a kiss to the palm of his hand.

"I can't believe we just did that," she smiled and he nodded in agreement instead, swallowing the words as she picked up her skirt and slid off of him. She made a face and he immediately felt guilty, knowing that he'd pumped about a gallon of cum into her and most of it was probably dripping down her thighs now. "I'll just…go over there," she giggled, making a run for the ocean, her skirt held high so that Sidney found himself staring at her legs as she ran.

"I am so screwed," he whispered to himself as he watched her dash into the surf, kicking spray up around her, her high pitched squeals reaching him in the dunes as he tugged his jeans up. "So, so screwed." Brushing the sand from his backside as best he could, Sidney tucked her lacey white panties into his back pocket and walked down the sand and stood just out of reach of the tide as it came in. She was laughing and splashing in the water like a child and he longed to join her but he knew without having to turn around that they were now in full view of the rest of the tour group and even though it had seemed, so far, as if he hadn't been recognized, that little voice in the back of his head was taking back control and his moment of frivolous madness was ebbing away. "We should get back," he called to her, and she turned, a bright, wide childish smile on her face that Sidney knew if she had any idea of what kind of risk they had just taken, if she only knew what would happen if they had been caught…his chest squeezed painfully around his heart. He would not ruin this moment, he told himself. There would be some other time to tell her, just not now.

As she came out of the surf, her hair whipped around her face and her dress hugged close around her legs and the sun hit her just so and Sidney felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Boy, I'm hungry now," she grinned, holding he hand out towards him. He took her hand and bit back those words for what seemed like the tenth time today and kissed her instead, a soft, almost innocent kiss.

"Let's go get that tea then," he offered, turning her to head back up towards the park.

"Mmm buttery scones!" she skipped beside him and Sidney bit down on his tongue and made himself smile and nod instead of saying any of the words that were in his head.

* * *

Tabby leaned her head on his shoulder as the chopper lifted into the air and closed her eyes. She was satiated in every way possible and part of her was wishing that this day would never, ever end. A smile crept across her lips as she thought of the way the older ladies had looked at the two of them when they'd sat down for tea, his fingers laced with hers' as they sat across the lace doily covered table sipping hot sugared tea and eating old fashioned scones with jam and dripping with butter.

Well we _are_ a cute couple she mused as she slid her arm beneath his and cuddled closer to him. He smelled like warm sunshine, hot sand and faintly of sex she thought as she took a deep breath. He eased her arm across the flat plane of his stomach, taking her hand in his and slid his other arm around her shoulder, bringing her even closer to him. She glanced up at his handsome face as he gazed out the window and thought how easy it would be to let herself fall for him.

But she was only here for the summer she reminded herself, tearing her gaze away from the high angle of his cheekbone and the slightly crooked angle of his nose and who knows how long he's even here for. 'It's a summer romance', she decided, 'and that's just fine'. A vacation romance; she liked the sound of that phrase in her head. People did that, if Hollywood was to be believed.

As soon as she thought of that she wrinkled her nose. Hollywood always had those people finding each other afterwards and making them get together forever. That didn't happen in real life. People just went their own way and that was fine she thought as she let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Something wrong?" he asked and she turned her gaze up to meet his.

"Not a thing," she told him honestly and smiled and then cuddled into him once more. She wasn't going to ruin this now by worrying about later. She wasn't that kind of a girl and, she decided, it wasn't a bad thing to fall a little in love as long as she remembered that this all had an expiration date. Realistic but happy she decided as she smiled to herself before a yawn stole her breath.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of her head, "I'll wake you up when we touch down," he promised and Tabby nodded, giving in to the pull of sweet dreams and warm, welcoming darkness safe in the knowledge that she was in the arms of a knight in shining armor.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

"Mon ami, I have been trying to call you for two weeks, _deux semaine_!" It was Max on the other end of the line and Sidney winced. It had seemed almost too good to be true, a week without agents, the press or anyone asking him to do appearances, sign contracts, pose in ridiculous outfits or answer questions about players he'd only met on the ice. It had seemed like the first actual vacation he could remember having in years.

"Don't you have anything better to do than worry about me?" he asked, wishing now that he hadn't turned on his cell but he'd been expecting a call from Pat, his agent, about a potential new deal with RBK and he knew if he hadn't been available for that call, it wouldn't just be Max flipping out, the RCMP would have the dive teams out dragging the lake.

"Oui, mon ami, much better things, but it's not like you to not answer your phone for days. I text you, you text back, that's how it goes, comprends?" Sidney sighed but agreed with a grunt. Max was right, normally he was as attached to his blackberry as any sixteen year old girl, but he hadn't even given it much of a thought lately. "It's that girl, isn't it?" Max said in that accusing tone that was half playful and half not that made Sid wary of answering. If he said yes, he was in for at least an hour of teasing and x-rated twenty questions, but if he said no…. "Elle est là en ce moment?" Max asked and Sid gave his blackberry an evil look but was glad that she was not, all the same as he held his phone in his hand at waist level rather than up to his ear. No one had conclusively proven a link to brain cancer but he wasn't one to take any chances all the same.

"No, she's working and I'm…busy, so if you were just calling to check in on me," Sid began, but knew that he wasn't going to get away that easily.

"I thought we were supposed to be having our annual fishing party," Max said sternly and Sid rolled his eyes, imagining the struggle his friend would be having to even keep a straight face as he said that.

"Annual? We only had the first one last year," he mumbled, knowing that argument was going to get him nowhere. Once Max had made up his mind about something….

"Jordy, Kris, Flower, we're all coming for it," Max announced, as if it were already a done deal.

"I thought we were all just going to meet in Vegas," Sid interjected, hopefully. They hadn't actually talked about that at all, not with the draft following hard on the heels of the awards and then the trip up to Edmonton. That trip was coming soon and it had been something that Sid had been looking forward to, but now…

"Oh no, you'll be on your best behavior when you're there. No, mon ami, I insist. We're coming up there and you're going to sit in an inner tube avec un refroidisseur ensemble de bières et de votre chapeau de pêche et amuses-toi sur," Max announced as if that made it so and Sid knew from past experience that once his friend and teammate decided something, there was very little chance of talking him out of it.

"I don't know," Sid began, because he had to; partly because Max would expect it and be suspicious if he didn't at least argue a little and partly because he didn't really want to spend any more time away from Tabby than he was doing now with her in the store and him replacing the sink in the master bath. Sidney wiped his forehead with the back of his arm and picked up the wrench he'd put down to answer his phone and banged it against the main pipe. "Look, Max, I have all this work to do on the house and…."

"Et un très jolie fille à avoir des rapports sexuels avec et vous ne voulez pas que vos amis gueule de la manière, je comprends tout à fait," Max sighed, but Sid knew that that wasn't going to change a thing. "So what you're trying to say is…you really still haven't told her, have you?"

"Something like that," Sid muttered, and winced once again as he heard his friend laugh on the other end of the line.

"I don't know who you are, or what you've done with mon ami, Sidney, white as rice and far too honest for his own good…," Max began but when Sid didn't join in his joviality, he added, "so you do not want your cover blown, oui?"

"I'm getting around to it," Sid grumbled as that lead weight at the bottom of his stomach showed up, the one that made him feel slightly queasy every time he thought about all of the lies that were piling up between them.

"Merde! I don't know why you haven't told her but if you want to be known as Patrick, mon ami, if that means that you finally get some pussy _and_ piece of mind, puis Patrick tu seras," Max insisted and Sidney really did grind his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. There was going to be no talking Max out of coming. He could practically hear his friend's excitement at the prospect of seeing him with an actual girl for more than one night.

"Okay, a weekend, that's all," Sid insisted and imagined the furry little Frenchman on the other end of the line bouncing up and down and clapping. "And one of these days I'm going to come to your house and create havoc."

"Qu'il serait impossible. You've met my brothers. There is nothing you could do to surprise any of my neighbors mon ami. Jordy…peut-être, but you mon ami…pas possible. So it's a date. We'll all be there Friday night." Sid felt the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up as if sensing impending doom. What he'd have to do is tell her, come clean, explain everything before they arrived. Max was used to lying to women, it was practically his m.o. But Jordy, MAF…they couldn't be expected to lie for him. Jordy because once he was past two wobbly pops he wouldn't remember to and Flower because it wasn't really in him….

No he was just going to have to tell her the whole truth. This had all gone on far too long and it was time she knew who he was before he told her his other truth…the one that involved handing over his heart on a silver platter, because he had come precariously close to doing that more than once now. If he was going to say those three words then it was going to come from Sidney Crosby and not Patrick.

"Yeah Max, see you then," he agreed, despite his misgivings and the stone weight in his stomach. If there hadn't been the right time, he'd just have to make the right time.

* * *

Tabby spun slowly as she entered the room, taking in all of the candles, the soft music, the dim lighting and last, but not at all least, the dark haired boy in the lavender dress shirt and those jeans she liked. He was lighting the candles in her grandmother's silver candelabra, leaning forward so that his shirt strained across the width of his shoulders and his jeans hugged his ass even tighter than usual. She walked forward and let her fingers brush across his backside and he flinched, almost jumping and he even let out a little girl squeal that made her laugh so hard tears squeezed out of her eyes.

He had amazing reflexes, which was the only reason that the gas lighter he'd been using hadn't set the entire tablecloth ablaze. He'd paid for it though, as he cursed a blue streak, using words Tabby was pretty sure she'd never even heard her merchant mariner grandfather use.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh," she bit down on her cheek as she grabbed the lighter away and put it carefully aside before guiding him into the kitchen and reaching to turn on the cold water, shoving his hand beneath it. "That's just usually something I would do," she hiccupped as she tried to stop laughing as he winced as the cold water ran over the angry red welt on his hand.

"I was trying to have everything already done by the time you finished in the store," he explained and Tabby found herself turning her gaze away from his hand and up into his hazel gaze to see real regret on his face, which touched her enough to reach up to brush her fingertips along the line of his jaw and then to reach up and replace her fingers with her lips. He really was too sweet, too perfect. She felt like if someone pinched her she'd wake up and realize that all of this…that _he_ was nothing but a dream, a figment of her wishful imagination. "And I haven't even ready any of those books," she sighed as his lips withdrew from hers'.

"What?" he asked with a hesitant chuckle in his voice. Tabby blinked and smiled shyly at him.

"Nothing," Tabby began but when he narrowed his eyes at her she merely shrugged before shutting off the tap and running the pad of her thumb gently over the livid red burn on his hand, making him suck in a breath through his teeth, hissing. "I was just thinking how you're too good to be true." She looked back up into his eyes and found him looking back at her intently, his fair brow furrowed, his expression serious. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I know what this is." She began to step back, reaching for a tea towel to dry off his hand but his hand grabbed her wrist and clamped around it in a steel grip that made her wince.

"What? What is this?" he asked, his voice hoarse, the gold flecks in his eyes luminous, like liquid flame. Tabby looked down at where his grip was causing the bones in her wrist to rub together and then back up at him.

"It's just some fun," she replied, trying to give him a playful, casual smile praying he wouldn't see beyond her mask, her carefully arranged demonstration of outward control. "I mean, do you think I'd have just let some guy I don't even know move in with me otherwise?" she added, forcing her tone to remain light and flippant, nothing like the churning turmoil she felt in her gut when she looked at his handsome features.

"Yeah, yeah right," he nodded, taking the tea towel she offered and wrapping it around her hand. "I bet you haven't even told any of your friends," he added, reaching to take two wine glasses down from the cupboard with his good hand. "They'd probably think you were crazy." His gaze met hers' then and just for a brief moment Tabby thought he actually looked hurt, but then he smiled and turned his back on her. Tabby opened her mouth, but couldn't think of what to say. That was just true, a fact. This whole thing was crazy.

"But crazy good," she added, walking up behind him and putting her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to the middle of his back. "Maybe the best summer I've ever had." Whatever it was, she could feel the tension flow out of him as she held him and finally he pressed his towel wrapped hand over hers' and she felt that she was forgiven, for the moment. "Now, about all these candles," she whispered, going up on tip toe to sink her teeth into the lobe of his ear.

"I…there was something I wanted to talk to you about," he began and it was Tabby's turn to freeze, her vivid imagination running ahead, creating any number of scenarios that included asking her to join a threesome to asking her to marry him. '_Fuck girl'_, she admonished herself silently '_you've been reading way too many Edwardian romance novels_.' "But it…it doesn't matter now," he added quickly as the doorbell sounded and he unraveled himself from her arms and headed for the door, digging his wallet out of his back pocket.

Tabby watched him go, feeling bereft, confused and just a little frustrated. She'd been almost sure she'd given the right answer. Boys…men, never wanted a commitment, or if they did, it wasn't when the relationship, if you could even call it that, was almost entirely physical. Part of her wanted to march after him, shake him and demand to know what he'd meant by all that but the other half of her cringed and wanted to keep her head stuck firmly in the sand. '_This is just a fling'_ she reminded herself, '_don't rock the boat. You're happy now. Just leave it alone_.' Taking a deep breath, Tabby forced a smile on her face and took the glasses he'd abandoned on the counter and headed for the romantically lit table.

* * *

He was pouting. He could hear his mom in his head telling him not to pull a face but worse than that, he could hear Max laughing his ass off at him and calling him a tool for whining about having what all of the guys were always telling him he should have – a booty call, friends with benefits. 'Don't get hung up on all the emotional shit' Jordy was always telling him that, and yet here he was staring into the depths of his wine glass feeling sorry for himself.

The problem was, he'd tried to tell himself it was better this way, less messy. He'd even told himself long distance relationships never worked; he'd seen his teammates try it, and they always failed miserably and yet, no matter how many ways he told himself that he was better off leaving this _whatever_ this was as it was, 'just fun' as she called it, he ended up feeling all torn up inside about it.

_Max is right_, Sid thought dully as he swirled the dark ruby liquid in his glass_, I am a tool. I barely know this woman, how can I be in love with her?_

The answer came in the form of Tabby walking down the newly firmed up and painted staircase in a silver grey sleeveless dress with a big silver bow tied at the waist, as if she was a present wrapped up just for him. Sid stared, his mouth hanging open as her gaze held his, her dark eyes, painted a matching smoky grey, holding a promise that made him shift uncomfortably in his chair. The soft swishing sound of crinoline against taffeta and the tap of her matching grey suede high heels as she crossed the floor towards him was the only sound in the room. He was holding his breath, a fact made more difficult as she walked around the table, trailing her long, deep red nails along the edge of the table until she was standing right next to him.

Sid sat back in his chair, which seemed to be just what she had wanted as she straddled his lap, her hands sliding over his shoulders, her molten gaze searching his as his hands slid up her thighs. He forgot to feel hurt or angry and only confusion and a surge of desire remained as her fingers combed through his hair and her mouth pressed down over his. His fingers touched silk and fishnet as his hands roamed over the bow topped stockings and loosed the elastic garters holding them in place. She moaned into his mouth as he wrapped his hands around her ass and slid them beneath her satin panties, tugging them off as she raised herself off of his lap enough for him to pull them free, or at least far enough that he could slide his hand back between her thighs and slip his fingers into her warm, wet centre.

She gasped, still holding tightly to his neck, her forehead pressed against his as he slid two fingers inside of her, pressing his fingertips up to that spongy, hot spot that made her go very still. It didn't have to be complicated he told himself as he held her still with one hand on the curve of her ass as his other hand worked inside of her to make her draw a quick succession of short, ragged breaths. It could just be this; great sex. It didn't have to be more than this he told himself as her fell back, a whimper emanating from her throat.

Or not, he decided as he pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat, digging his teeth in just enough to make her dig her nails into the back of his head. He'd had good sex, decent sex and even dirty sex with other women, maybe even prettier women, but none had ever turned him into a pulsing mass of hormones and raw need. None made him feel this primal, made him want to dig his teeth into and past the flesh of her neck to taste her blood and none, no woman had ever, ever made him want to hold her and let her shiver and shudder and whisper sweet nothings as she came, over and over without his wanting to slake his own desire. Always…or at least the few times he'd thought himself in a relationship before it had been about him first. He hadn't had time to worry about anyone else but himself.

So was it because it was the long, hot nights of summer, he wondered as he tasted the salt on the thin skin over her collarbones or was it because something in her, something _about_ her that made him want more? More from her, more time with her?

He fumbled with the fly on his jeans, eager…no not eager, that was the wrong word. He _needed_ to be inside her. Grunting, he thrust his way up inside of her and she cried out in response, arching her back and digging her nails into shoulders. No, it was more than just this, Sid knew as he lost himself in her, in that moment.

He had to figure something out. He had to tell her, not only who he really was but how he felt and what they were going to do to stay together. He couldn't or maybe wouldn't lose this, he vowed as she bent to capture his mouth with her soft, sweet lips. There was something, something he couldn't quite understand, but something important and something necessary about her.

Still sheathed inside of her, Sid stood and placed her back gently on the table. He carefully pushed the candelabra aside and then slid her panties the rest of the way off and then, as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he held his hands around her small waist, he began to rock in and out of her body, watching a slow glow suffuse her face as she stared up at him.

Those words, they were right there again on the tip of his tongue. He bit down on his bottom lip, refusing to give them voice.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered instead and she smiled up at him, her dark eyes sparkling in the moonlight and he had to shut his eyes, squeezing them shut. If he looked at her again, if he saw the way she was looking at him he'd say the words and then she'd laugh and it would be over and he didn't want it to end. Not ever.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

"Taa daaaa! Les boys sant dans la maison!"

Tabby looked up to find what she was fairly sure was either a barrel full of monkeys or one of those buckets of little green army men surging through the door of the store and felt for the panic button Patrick had had installed under the counter. One push called his cell phone. Two called the cops.

"Grasshoppers!" A tall, blonde Mennonite looking young man grabbed one of the tubes of live insects off the shelf and was holding it threateningly over the head of a darker, sleeker looking young man, as if, at any moment or at the slightest provocation, he'd empty it either into the longish hair of his friend, or, more probably, down his shirt. Tabby had had to admonish a few young men about this, but then young had meant seven, maybe eight.

"Si tu la faites, mon ami, je vais tu faire manger un ver," the darker one with the longish hair raised a single eyebrow and the group fell into silence, and not a good silence. It was the kind of silence that was threatening. They were all, obviously waiting for someone to make a move, and Tabby was almost sure whatever move that turned out to be, it might turn out fatal for the store.

"Ummm, can I help you with those or some _other_ kind of _bait_?" she asked, almost hopefully, hating that her voice had that tenor of a woman afraid. Some of her customers could be gruff, and there was a couple of old farts who could be downright rude, but she'd never really had that fear of being held at gunpoint and robbed. Not for the maybe hundred and fifty to two hundred dollars a day the store might take in. But this is the way it started, she thought as she watched the tall blonde give the tube of live bait a little wiggle to start the live insects scratching and hopping around inside. "Gentlemen?" she tried again, her voice wavering. She was almost ready to push the buzzer when a face she thought she recognized appeared around the corner of the aisle.

"Vous regardez de plus en plus belle alors je me souviens." Tabby's hand flew to her heart as she recognized the Patrick's scruffy friend.

"You're...oh wait...don't tell me," Tabby screwed her eyes shut tight and tried to remember anything other than how embarrassing that night had been. "You're Max!" she smiled at last pointing at him and he, grinning from ear to ear, bowed low over his arm with a flourish that was a little too cheesy, but it also stopped the crazies from setting the grasshoppers loose all over the store, so she decided to forgive him.

"I am, and where is our esteemed team...colleague?" he asked, walking forward to take one of her hands in his and, leaning over, he brushed his lips across the back of her knuckles.

"He's in the house," she muttered, feeling herself flush with embarrassment as she looked up to find eight sets of eyes on her. "I think in the kitchen."

"S...Patrick's in the kitchen?" the tall blonde one made a face and Max turned around and waved his finger at him.

"Ours is not to question the living arrangements de notre ami, we are just here to support," he added with a grin and wink as he moved to head through the door behind her. Tabby thought about stopping him, even long enough to call out a warning but then put her hands back on the counter. He'd mentioned a 'friend' might be stopping by for dinner, not that he was expecting a visit from the Wicked Witch of the West's flying monkey brigade, it would serve him right if they found him with his shorts around his ankles reading the paper on the toilet. And, she thought grudgingly, he could pay to order dinner in if they were all staying. She wasn't going to stand on her feet all day and then cook dinner for six too.

"Are you going to pay for that before you make him eat them?" she asked as the tall blonde went by, still holding the tube of live grasshoppers over the head of the slighter, dark haired Frenchman. It didn't seem to be bothering him but Tabby liked the idea of the jumping insects let loose in her home even less than in the store.

"Put on cappie's tab. I'm sure he'll find some way of paying you for it," the big blonde galoot grinned maliciously before pulling the back of his friend's shirt open and giving the tube another menacing shake.

"Mon ami, je tu jure que je tu blesser de facon inimaginable," the slighter, shorter, darker young man didn't so much as flinch and something about that made Tabby feel just a smidgeon better about the chances of waking up without bugs in her bed.

* * *

"What the fuck? Who's this bob the fucking builder guy?"

Sidney felt the kick to his ankle and winced. Not because it hurt, which it didn't, but because he knew what he was in for. He slid from beneath the sink, wrench in hand, wiping his free hand down the front of an old, faded, and now torn t-shirt leaving streaks of grease behind.

"There's this thing, called the yellow pages...you could hire some guy with butt cleavage to do this. You do know that right?" Sticking his tongue, Sid made a sarcastic face at Jordy as he scrambled to his feet.

"Mon Dieu, mon ami, I've never had you down as a fashion model, no matter how many Si covers you've been on, mais bon Dieu, tu es un hot mess," Max drawled, shaking his head in disgust.

"Wait... Are you _living_ here?" Kris asks and Sid's head swiveled towards him and before he realized that all of his friends were looking at him as if he'd grown two heads, one of which they clearly didn't recognize.

"You sly fucking dog!" Jordy grinned and slapped Sid on the shoulder, hard enough to make him wince. "You are fucking living in sin and no one fucking knows it. Nice!" Sid opened his mouth to say something along the lines of that wasn't quite true, but as soon as he thought it, he knew that in fact it was very true.

"Does Troy know?" The room fell into a charged silence and the grins disappeared as everyone first looked to the quiet goalie and then back to Sid, who cringed as he silently shook his head.

"You're like five miles up the road and daddy _doesn't_ know?" Kris smirked and then the silence was broken as all of his friends began to snigger like schoolgirls. "Where does he think you are?"

"A week ago...with you and Max in Atlantic City...now...I don't know, maybe visiting you...I don't know," Sid answered truthfully, which earned him a round of loud wolf whistles.

"Right under the old man's nose, merde," Max held his hand up for a high five, but Sid didn't feel much like celebrating. It hadn't been his intent to mislead or deceive anyone, he just hadn't thought about much aside from how free he felt with her. Time had simply slipped by.

But now he felt guilty. While it was true that he probably saw his parents more during the season than most of his teammates did, only because his endorsements meant that he could afford to pay for both of their retirements, but the summer was usually the time that he would spend more than just a dinner's worth of time with them.

"Have you been here...the _whole_ time? Since you left Atlantic City?" Kris asked more seriously, but his elfin grin hadn't quite disappeared. Sid had known that they were all going to enjoy seeing him living outside of the normally very small, very dull box that he lived in most of the time, but they seemed to be enjoying it just a little _too_ much. They were making what he had with Tabby feel...dirty and even if she was determined to keep things casual, Sidney knew he was just as determined that what they had was...special.

He was just wishing he could come up with speedy, sarcasm laden come backs like Max and Jordy always seemed to be able to do, although he was fairly certain that had more to do with having male rather than female siblings, when Tabby appeared in the archway to the kitchen. She leaned there, looking amazing in just a pair of black leggings and one of those tops that tied just under her breasts, her long, dark hair in pig tails watching him over the shoulders of his teammates, with one of those half smiles of hers' and suddenly it didn't matter if they didn't get it.

"Hey...try and keep it down in here will ya?" she grinned, sauntering past all of his friends without giving them a second glance, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted her lips over his in a long, soft kiss. "Maybe you boys can help get that drain fixed before you get all...stupid drunk, huh?" she added, running the pad of her thumb along his bottom lip, which meant he was wearing her cherry lip gloss, which he actually liked, a lot.

"Yeah, I'll help," Jordy grinned at her like she was naked and somehow Sid didn't even care. "I'll call a plumber," he added, heading for the phone that hung on the wall and then stood there, staring blankly at the old, dial phone.

"I'll leave you to your...friends," she whispered to him, her lips brushing his cheeks, which, for some reason immediately felt hot. "Just try not to wreck anymore of my house, hmm?" she added, with a playful grin before she turned and sauntered back the way she came, and Sidney realized, he wasn't the only one mesmerized by the sight of her shapely ass in those tight, black tights.

"Well, mon capitaine, I don't fucking blame you for hiding out here," Kris said quietly, tilting his head to one side so that his hair long, dark fell into his eyes as he stared after Tabby's retreating form.

"You mean playing hide the sausage here," Jordy called from where he was now trying to figure out the old fashioned metal address book with its' dial and metal pointer.

"Gronk, why don't you just get over here and hand me that vice grip so I can get this finished and then we can all go out on the lake?" he suggested and got a grudging sound of acceptance from the big blonde forward who nearly had his face taken off when the book suddenly snapped open.

"Just tell me one thing," Jordy grumbled giving the old metal book a dirty look before turning to head towards the sink that Sidney was sliding back beneath, "why are here? I mean, she does know you have a big fucking new house that doesn't need work right?" Sidney looked up at his friend and then let himself slide beneath the sink so that his self-conscious expression wouldn't be seen.

"Not exactly," he mumbled, his reply meeting dead silence.

"So she doesn't know who you are or that you have a fuck load of dough either?" Closing his eyes and sighing, Sid slipped back out from beneath the sink and looked at all the expectant faces of his friends.

"No, okay? No, she doesn't know who I am or anything about me, and...and just for now I'd like it to stay that way...if you bunch of tools can keep your pie holes shut," he added, sliding back under the sink when they all started to laugh again. This was going to be a long, _long_ weekend.

* * *

"They're a bit...much, aren't they?" Patrick asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist, his breath warm on her cheek. Tabby reached up to ruffle his hair, her hand sliding down until her fingers curled around the back of his thick neck, holding him there. Not that he seemed to want to be anywhere else, even when his friends were splashing each other and playing tag in the shallows, as if they were a bunch of ten year olds. It looked like fun, and yet, he was there, with her, on the dock, a mere bystander.

"They're fine," she told him truthfully. "It's a nice...change," she admitted, her mind casting back to the tiny, half empty apartments her friends lived in back home and the grotty, dark rehearsal halls they practiced in. Musicians hardly 'lived' during daylight hours. They were mostly a laid back bunch, at least until the sun went down and the alcohol came out.

She felt him go still behind her and Tabby craned her neck to try and read his expression. He was unusually quiet. Not that he was particularly talkative normally, but even so, he seemed almost wary...worried.

"I thought you invited them?" she began, "and now it's like you can't wait for them to leave."

"It's not that," he admitted, shrugging before he turned her around to face him, his hand reaching up to brush her bangs back as his hazel gaze searched hers' in a way that made her feel like blushing it was so intimate. "There's so many things...things I don't know about you, things I want to know," he continued, his gaze so intense that Tabby found herself needing to look away. "Like what you were thinking just then."

"You don't _need_ to know anything," she told him quietly, feeling his tension ramp up even as she said it. She felt confused. He was so intense sometimes, like now, like he couldn't get enough of her, but then, there were other times when it seemed like he was a hundred miles away and she couldn't get through to him at all, like he was keeping her at arms' length. She'd told herself, over and over again, that that was fine, because this wasn't going anywhere, it was just a summer fling, but at other times it ate at her confidence. "Isn't everything fine just the way it is?" she asked, glancing up at him. He opened his mouth, but never got a chance to say anything as a bucket of cold lake water was upended over his head.

"Tabernak! Get a room!" Patrick growled and took off running after his friend, who dived off the end of the pier with Patrick close on his heels. Tabby watched them, a smile on her face. Sometimes he could act like someone twice his age, and sometimes she liked that he was an 'old soul', and yet, she liked seeing this side of him, the playful, young side. Sometimes she forgot she was young too. She'd almost always been accused of acting far older than her won age would suggest. Sometimes she even forgot that she was actually a few months younger than he was.

"Mr. Crosby?"

Tabby turned at the sound of an unexpected voice behind her, nearly jumping out of her skin. It was only the delivery driver with the food, three large bags of it, but her mind had been elsewhere.

"I think you're looking for Mr. Parker," she began to correct the small Chinese man who stared at her blankly and shook his head.

"No, no Mr. Crosby," he insisted, gesturing with one of the bags towards the boys who were emerging from the lake, dripping onto the dock. Tabby turned, her brow furrowing, but Max was already brushing past her, grabbing his jeans along the way and digging into the pockets for his wallet.

"That's me," he smiled brightly at the driver who shook his head and continued to gesture with his full hands towards Patrick who was standing at the end of the dock, half turned away, half hidden behind his bigger, taller blonde friend.

"No, no. Mr. Sidney," the driver insisted again, making like he was going to push past Max who was now holding out a wad of bills towards him.

"Yep that's me," Max insisted again, reaching towards one of the bags with his free hand and thrusting the cash at the driver at the same time.

"Mmm, MSG, I'll be asleep by nine," Jordan, Patrick's tall blonde friend grabbed at the other bags but the driver stepped back from both of them and shook his head, narrowing his eyes and thrusting out his bottom lip.

"No, no Mr. Sidney order," he insisted and stared down the dock towards where the three, dark haired young men were now standing, staring back at him. Tabby looked at the driver and then back at Patrick, knowing he'd put the order in and that they'd been ordering from the same awful Chinese take out restaurant for the last two weeks.

"I'll take those," she said quietly, but firmly, stepping in front of Max and taking the money out of his hand. The driver didn't look happy, but it was her house and he'd been here before so he took the money and grudgingly allowed the boys to take the bags, but he was still staring down the dock at where the two slighter Frenchmen were standing, flanking Patrick who was standing stock, still, his gaze slipping sideways like a dog's will when it meets a more dominant dog and wants to avoid a fight.

_Or_, Tabby thought, _like he's got something to hide_.

* * *

"That was close," Tanger whispered as they headed up the hill towards the house, behind Jordan and Max who were swinging the bags of food and taking bets on who could eat more Mu Shu pork than the other. For himself, Sid was watching Tabby, who was watching him right back.

"This might be a good time to tell her mon ami, before you get caught again," Flower suggested and though Sidney knew that his quiet friend was probably right, he shook his head.

"You don't understand," he said quietly, keeping his voice low enough so that it was almost a whisper. "This isn't…she's not serious about this…about me. So it's just…if she doesn't know it's just better," he stumbled over his words as he tried to explain, partially because it tasted like a lie as he said the words aloud and partially because it hurt to say it and to think it.

"Je pense que vous êtes tous deux situés à vous," Flower put his hand on his friend's arm, stalling Sidney's forward movement. Sid looked down at his friend's hand and nodded.

"Peut-etre mais c'est la seule facon que je peux me protéger," he replied in a voice strangled by barely held in check emotion. Sidney could feel both Flower and Tanger studying his face and he felt his ears begin to burn. "What?" he snarled, glancing at both of them wearing his 'danger face'. They both knew it well and knew too that it was meant as a warning.

"Tu es en amour," Tanger breathed, ignoring the cold, hard look of warning Sidney sent his way. "I didn't even know that was possible for Creature to have feelings," he added, and though it was clear he was trying to lighten the mood, Sid was having none of it. His feelings were too raw and too personal and he was certainly in no mood to discuss them, even with Tanger and Flower, both of whom had long term loves of their own.

"Let's just eat," he muttered as they came abreast of where Tabby was still standing, waiting and watching them silently. Both Flower and Tanger gave him those looks, the ones that said that this discussion wasn't over but he tried his best to ignore them as he reached for her hand, but she withheld it, crossing her arms across her ample bosom instead.

"What was all that about?" she asked, her voice even, but firm, just like her gaze. Sidney shrugged and glanced up towards the house, into which his friends were disappearing.

"A mix up, I don't know," he lied.

"Your friend Max…is he like…someone…important?" she asked and Sidney had to bite down on his bottom lip, hard, not to smile.

"Yeah, in his own head. Why?" he wiped the back of his arm across his mouth, doing his best to wipe the smile of relief from his face.

"Well…that was all kind of weird. I mean…how many times have we ordered from that place now and that guy was going all ninja on Max," she narrowed her eyes as she stole a glance towards where the boys were making an enormous amount of noise for just putting out food.

"Uh…Max can be kind of…obnoxious. You may have noticed that," Sidney began, offering his hand again and this time she took it. "He probably pissed them off once. Not everyone gets his humour," he added to which Tabby nodded, obviously agreeing.

"They're all kind of obnoxious," she agreed, falling into step beside him as they headed up to the house. "Well…except for Marc…I like him," she added with a grin.

"Flower? Yeah, everyone likes him," Sidney agreed, letting go of her hand and slipping his arm around her waist instead and was rewarded by her laying her head on his shoulder.

She could come around to his way of thinking, he thought to himself as they made their way up the steps to the veranda. He just had to give her a little more time and then he would tell her, he promised himself, when she had to know and not before he was sure about her feelings. Sure that whatever she felt was for himself and not for all that superstar, SI cover boy bullshit.

He had time, he thought as he stopped her, just before they went into the house so that he could kiss her, without all the wolf whistles and smart aleck remarks from his friends and if that meant there was a little less Chow Mein, so be it, he thought as her lips parted beneath his and her body melted in his arms.

* * *

"So, has our cap…has _Patrick_ asked you to Vegas yet?"

Tabby had just cracked open her fortune cookie and was pulling the little tab of paper out to read it. She looked up at Jordan and narrowed her eyes.

"Was he supposed to?" she asked, glancing sidelong at Patrick who was studiously staring at the sweet and sour pork piled on his plate.

"You haven't even told her that?" Jordan snorted and picked up a deep fried won ton and hurled it at Patrick, who easily dodged it. Tabby stared at the food as it slid to the floor and then narrowed her eyes at the tall blonde.

"What do you mean…even told me what?" she asked, this time only looking at Jordan. First the delivery driver and now this. She felt like there was something she was missing and she was beginning to think some kind of prank was being played, but what she couldn't decide was, if it was on her or on Patrick.

"That he's going to Vegas next week," Kristopher, one of the dark haired Frenchman answered before Jordan could. She glanced at him and then at Patrick and she had the sudden sensation of being unable to breathe.

"You're leaving…already?" she asked, wondering if the fluttering in her chest was a precursor of a full blown panic attack or if it was just the result of eating too many spring rolls.

"Not leaving…well, yeah, I guess I am but just for a week. I have a couple of…events…business and then I'll be back," Patrick promised, but there was something in his eyes, something that she couldn't read but now Tabby began to feel as if she really was missing a piece of a puzzle.

"Events in Vegas huh?" she pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. '_I'll play along_', she thought, '_and then we'll see where this goes'_. "Events with strippers and gambling and…."

"I doubt Mr. Clean will be around any of that stuff," Kristopher snorted, and then began to cough on his Shanghai noodles. While Marc smacked his friend's back, he shook his head.

"You don't have to worry about that, believe me. S…Patrick will be on his best behaviour, won't you mon ami?" Marc raised an eyebrow and Patrick nodded earnestly.

"Oh c'mon, you didn't even _go_ last year!" Jordy cried, as if he was personally hurt by the idea of Patrick keeping his behaviour on the up and up. "You have to _at least_ come out clubbing," he added, batting his big blue eyes and sticking out his bottom lip. "And what about Edmonton? We're totally hooking up with Ric and some of the boys and…."

"Edmonton?" This time Tabby turned and stared directly at Patrick who didn't look up from his food, but did shrug.

"Gronk…I'll be getting there from L.A. and…."

"Wait, wait, Los Angeles too?" Tabby asked, incredulous.

"It's not like it's fun," Patrick promised, finally putting his fork down and turning to her, reaching for her hands, which she quickly withdrew. "It's business. Especially L.A., believe me. It's boring. It's not like I'm going shopping on Rodeo Drive," he explained but the wariness in all of the other sets of eyes watching them made Tabby sure there was something that he wasn't telling her.

"You're married, aren't you?" she asked, holding her arms protectively around herself and staring him down.

The entire table erupted in laughter, to the point that Jordan was pounding the table with his fists and Kristopher was wiping away tears with a napkin. Tabby looked around the table and then back at Patrick, who was smiling but not maliciously. This time, when he reached for her hands, she let him take them.

"No, Tabs, I'm not…_sooo _not. I'm just about as single as they get," he promised her, raising her hands to his mouth and brushing the backs of each of her hands with his lips.

"Mon ami…he doesn't date," Marc explained quietly, probably because he was the only not currently fighting the urge to puke up his dinner from laughing so hard. Tabby looked at him and then back at Patrick and shook her head.

"I don't understand…you're like…you're practically perfect," she mumbled, trying to make sense of the jumble of emotions she was feeling which ranged from suspicion to embarrassment.

"No, I'm not…I'm a monster pain in the ass to be with, believe me," he told her quietly, turning her hands over and pressing a kiss to the centre of each of her palms. "That's why they're laughing. No one will put up with me," he added, his gaze searching hers' as if he expected further argument but Tabby couldn't come up with one. _I don't know him_, she thought as he finally smiled and turned to scold his friends for making fun of him, _and I don't have the right to be jealous or ask him where he's going or with whom_. It was a sobering thought as she realized that she was going to miss him while he was gone and worse than that, that she didn't want him to go.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13

She hadn't even said goodbye and she'd refused to take him to the airport both actions that gave Sidney hope that maybe, just maybe, Tabby was beginning to come around to the idea that what they had was more than just a summer fling. Oh he'd waited, sitting outside in his SUV, letting the engine idle as he stared at the door of the little bait shop in front of the house, but she never came out. She'd known he was there and she'd known he was leaving and she'd made damn sure that he hadn't had more than a half hours sleep the night before, getting her fill before he left Sid supposed, but she didn't come out. She didn't even wave.

Now, as he sat in the back of an air conditioned stretch limo plodding down the Vegas strip, he found himself having a conversation with her in his head. He wanted to talk about the amazing buildings and all of the people walking down the sidewalks with bottles of beer or giant margarita glasses in their hands. He wanted to ask her if she wanted to see that show at Treasure Island. He wanted to tell her about the heat and all of the people and he found himself smiling and shaking his head at himself.

He had it bad.

He was beginning to regret not opening up to her, not asking her to come with him as the limo pulled up in front of the Palms hotel, but as the door opened and Sidney found himself staring straight into the lens of at least six TV cameras, those regrets quickly disappeared.

"If I'd known this was going to happen I'd have dressed a little better for arriving," he muttered to the bell hop who was loading his single case and suit bag onto one of those brass trolleys.

"This is a town that knows how to do red carpet," the young man smiled as Sid dropped an American twenty into his hand. He was about to ask him to do his damndest to get him by all of the welcoming crew but then there was a TV crew he recognized from home and he put on his best smile and felt glad that Tabby wasn't beside him, wondering what in the hell was going on. This wasn't easy for someone who'd grown up in front of the camera like he had. He didn't really want to put anyone else through it. Not unless he knew it was going to be for keeps.

* * *

"The eastern marine air must be suiting you," the woman on the other end of the line teased as Tabby sat across a high winged back chair, her legs swinging over the arm, her other hand trailing along the edge of her notebook, which was open on the floor in front of her. "It looks like you're doing some of your best work. Maybe you'll listen to me this time when I tell you that you should move out this direction."

"Maybe," Tabby smiled. _Yeah, maybe, if things became a little more solid, a little more stable with Patrick when he came back, if he came back_, she thought to herself, but kept that to herself. "So you're happy with all three pieces Shannon?"

"Mmm, yeah, great stuff. The authors are thrilled too," the art director at Harlequin chirped happily and Tabby felt a grin beginning to grow on her face. If she took all three pieces, there would be a big cheque coming her way in the mail. "I gotta say, whoever he is, your muse is something else. He has a real…quality," Shannon continued and Tabby bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. Oh, he had a quality alright. Unbelievable stamina in the sack, a smile that made butter melt and a tender touch that made her knees weak. "I keep thinking though," Shannon continued on what sounded like a more serious note, "that I've seen him somewhere before. You know? Like he's been in something or on something I've seen…," her voice trailed away and Tabby straightened in the chair, putting her feet flat on the floor. She knew what her art editor was asking; _am I going to have to pay some actor or model for his permission to be on the cover of our stories?_

"I swear Shannon," Tabby began, using her serious business voice and not the light, conversational girl talk voice she'd been using before. "I just met this guy. He's a marketing exec. I promise, this isn't going to be a problem," she insisted and waited, chewing on the end of her thumb as the silence went on and on at the other end of the line.

"Mmmm…I could swear that I know him, you know? But maybe he's just got that quality, that boy next door thing." Tabby smiled and leaned back into the chair.

"I know, right? I tried a few sketches of him in the cowboy gear, you know, for those kinds of series but…he looks kind of like a chump in anything more than a ball cap but…put a toque on him and he's great for one of those out of the cold stories," she suggested and heard her editor laugh on the other end of the line.

"Well, whatever you've found out there in the Maritimes, it's really working for you Tabitha. Keep up the good work. I'm happy to keep signing these cheques if you keep sending me stuff like this. This is much better than that urban, girl in the city stuff you were doing back in Vancouver," she added and Tabby allowed herself a happy sigh. She had the urge to tell her editor that she'd never felt this way back in Vancouver, but she was hardly ready to admit that to herself, never mind someone at the other end of a phone line that she'd only met twice in her life. "Speaking of which," Shannon continued, "did you get that list of titles I sent you? I thought of them as soon as I looked at this last piece," she added, which made Tabby slide sideways again so she could access her notebook.

She tabbed up to the first jpg she'd sent and smiled to herself. Patrick, as a baseball player, hat sitting jauntily back on his head, bat over his shoulder in those tight leggings, socks up to the knees, grinning his big dimpalicious grin at a dark haired girl with a ball in her hand and a mischievous smile on her face. Tabby sighed as she thought about the game he and his friends had put together in the backyard. She'd never seen a casual game get so heated before, but then she'd got into the shower with him afterwards and he'd taken out the rest of his competitiveness on her. Her legs still went to jelly just at the thought of it.

"Yeah, he's definitely got that athletic build," Tabby agreed, "and yeah, I won't have any trouble working up something for a carpenter," she added, barely able to stop from laughing. She had plenty of ideas for that, what with all the work he'd done around the house. "And hockey…yeah, I'll have to do a little research on the jerseys and equipment and that, but I think I can figure something out for that too." Maybe she'd even ask him to pose for her for that one, Tabby thought to herself as she thought about what his powerful legs would look like on skates and that led her to wondering if there were any ice rinks within fifty miles of the place that they could rent a pair.

"Well, like I said girlfriend, keep up the good work. I'm serious. This stuff is great," Shannon added.

"As long as I see some money in my account, I'm happy you're happy," Tabby laughed.

"Sounds like someone else is pretty happy too," Shannon went back to her conversational, girlfriend chat sort of tone and Tabby sighed out loud.

"I don't know. It's all too new but…yeah, it's been an eventful summer so far," she admitted. "Look, I'll get to at least one of these pieces this week, considering he's off on some kind of business trip. I'll send you something by the end of the week," she added, a picture already forming in her head of a tool belt slung low on his hips, just below his six pack, sweat glowing on his bare chest and some poor woman that looked a lot like her but maybe with some geeky glasses staring up at him with naked desire clear on her face.

"I'll look forward to that Tabitha. Speak with you soon."

Tabby heard her editor hanging up and she hit the end button on her cell and was about to toss it aside when it made that chirping sound that told her she had a text. She looked down at the screen and found herself grinning as a picture of Patrick and his big blonde friend Jordy came up, standing beside one of the giant lions outside the MGM grand, grinning and waving like a couple of schoolgirls. The text beneath it was a simple 'wish you were here' but it still made her stomach do a little flip.

She wasn't happy that he was gone, but she had a feeling she was going to be very happy to have him back.

* * *

"Did you see that chick?" Jordy asked as he came, breathless, off of the dance floor. "She was hooottt!" Sidney's answer was the slightest of shrugs, one shoulder only, as he stared out over the dance floor. "Did you want me to get that girl back?" Jordy asked, peering out over the crowd for the young, blonde starlette who had done her best to try and get herself invited along with them into the limo. Sidney shook his head, again. "Oh c'mon man, she was totally your type," Jordan argued, taking another glass of champagne from one of the scantily clad waitresses as she went by. He offered one to Sid, who again, merely shook his head.

"Jesus, you're like some kind of fucking bump on a log." The NHL's youngest new stud, Patrick Kane, had three girls hanging off of him and was liquored to the gills. Sidney spared him the briefest of glances and then went back to watching the floor show. There was a cute girl bumping and grinding on a stripper pole who had been giving him the eye for the past half hour but he was never going to invite her to the table. He was only looking at her because her long, thick dark mane of hair reminded him of Tabby's and now that the awards were over, she was pretty much the only thing on his mind.

"You have to forgive my quiet little friend here," Jordan announced, having downed his glass of champagne he was currently reaching for one of the glow in the dark shots that were sitting in the middle of the table. "He thinks he's in looooove," he added, grinning dangerously at Sid before downing three shots in succession, one after the other. Jordan liked to drink and Jordan liked to party, and normally his crazy antics and insistent nature would pull Sidney out of his quiet shell. Not tonight. "If you looove her so much why don't you tell her who you are?" his friend asked, swaying on the spot like a tall tree in the wind, except it wasn't wind that was going to fell this tree, Sidney knew.

"I'll tell her when I'm ready," he replied, giving Jordan a look that his friend, under normal circumstances, would have quickly interpreted as '_shut the fuck up'_. But when Jordan, or any of his siblings, got this far into their cups, that look was more like a red flag to a bull.

"Look, buddy, she obviously doesn't know who you or any of us are, so if all you're fucking worried about is your precious freaking anonym…anononym…fucking privacy or whatever, then dude…you've totally got that. She doesn't fucking know who you are. She doesn't know about your big fucking house or that you're fucking loaded. She just thinks you fuck like a bunny rabbit." Jordan spewed liquid out between his lips as he laughed at his own joke. For himself, Sid was just glad that the club was dark and loud, but even so, he glanced around to be sure that the revelers around them weren't staring at him with that look, the one that said '_oh my god, Sidney Crosby fucks like a what?_' "Dude you are almost fucking twenty fucking three years old. No one honestly thinks you've kept your schmeckel in your pants all this fucking time, shit!"Jordan added with a note of disgust as Sid shrank down in the booth, sure that they were being overheard and that when he logged on to his lap top later he'd find this entire conversation repeated, verbatim on at least a dozen websites.

"Oh god, you're not one of _those_ guys are you?" Kaner asked, being fed by one of the girls he was with, as if his hands were broken. When Sid merely raised his brows, Patrick rolled his eyes. "Dude, we have all this," he gestured with his hands around the shoulders of the two girls nearest to him, "and dude, you're the king of the fucking mountain. You're the fucking poster boy. You should be getting pussy left, right and fucking centre. If you tell me you're holding out for _one_ fucking girl…dude I think I'm gonna puke," he added, laughing at this own joke. He did that a lot, Sid had noticed. Patrick Kane seemed to think everything that came out of his own mouth was fucking hilarious.

Sid didn't want to be rude to the girls that were hanging all over this year's Stanley Cup winner, but he was never, ever, going to want a girl who draped herself over him like that. They were obviously competing to be taken back to his hotel room, if he didn't take them all, Sid realized as one of them shared an olive from her martini, by mouth, with one of the other girls while Patrick watched, his gaze bleary from a mixture of alcohol and raw desire.

He'd seen Max and Geno do just this, more times than he cared to count and both of them seemed happy to put in the minimum required effort to take some girl home and never start any kind of meaningful relationship, despite Oksana's blood red painted clutches being dug into the big Russian galoot.

He'd never do that either. He knew a lot of the guys had women in other cities. He knew he wasn't ever going to be one of those guys. If he gave his heart, that was going to be it. Which made the way he was beginning to feel about Tabby scare him, and more than just a little.

"Look, I have to get up early to be at the draft. I'm gonna call it a night," he explained as he got up to squeeze his way by Jordan who got up to let him by, but was shaking his head.

"C'mon dude, you've got to try some more of the thirty one flavors before you settle for just one," Kaner called out to him as he left the table behind but Sid didn't even turn around. He was sure his father would probably have the same argument, but that wouldn't change his mind either. He had at least another month to decide if he had to put his line back in the water or if he was done fishing, _permanently_.

* * *

"Mom…Mom, I know I haven't been to see Uncle Dave, but I told you that there's still a lot of work to do around the house." Tabby paced while she answered her mother's litany of questions.

"If you're going to get it sold before the end of the summer, in this climate, you need to get it on the market as soon as you can," her mother scolded her, using that 'I know best' tone that had Tabby chewing on her nails.

"I don't know mom, I haven't really made up my mind," she began, trying to think of how she could explain about keeping the place as a summer retreat. That wasn't something her working class parents would or could ever understand. It would be an extravagance, and she hadn't quite worked out how she could afford the taxes or the upkeep, but if it turned out that Patrick lived somewhere like Toronto in his real life, and maybe if she decided to follow him there instead of returning to the west coast….

"That's so like you Tabitha, leave everything until the last minute and then wonder why it doesn't work out," she winced as she heard her mother's frustrated sigh. "There's more to it than just sticking a for sale sign out front. I'll call your Uncle, get the place appraised…."

"Mom!" Tabby practically shouted down the other end of the line. "Gramps left the place to me, not you, _me_. So I think I'll decide when and if the place goes up for sale." Taking a deep breath, as she squeezed her eyes shut, Tabby tried to ease the defensiveness and hostility out of her voice. "Just…I promise it will get done…just give me some time to do the renovations. It won't sell this way."

"You could be throwing good money after bad Tabitha. I'll call Uncle Dave, have him come down and look at what you've done. You should get another opinion before you get all artsy fartsy on the place. Sometimes I think you forget that not everyone shares your…artistic sensibilities," her mother grumbled and Tabby felt her hackles rise.

"Mom…the plumbing is ancient, the stairs were practically falling apart…I'm not talking colours, I'm talking basics," she began but heard another one of her mother's patented impatient sighs on the other end of the line.

"Tabitha, baby, you're not Mike Holmes. What do you know about plumbing? And for that matter, have you had the roof or the foundation checked. For all you know the whole place is ready to come down," Tabby winced again. That was true, she couldn't deny it. And yet she had begun to love the feel of the old house, even with all its' leaks, creaks and groans.

"Okay, okay, I'll call him myself, in the morning, I promise," Tabby mumbled as she gave in.

"It's for the best hun, I know you think you're doing the right thing, but you don't know anything about this kind of stuff," her mother told her for the umpteenth time. Tabby gazed out at the reflection of the moon on the lake clenched her teeth. "We just want you to get the best price possible honey. If you're going to keep going with this art stuff, you'll need some money to fall back on." There it was; the dig about her chosen profession. Tabby bit back all of the old arguments that never got her anywhere anyway, like if they'd cared to help with university or if she hadn't had to work on top of everything. Arguing with her mother, full stop, never got her much of anywhere.

"I said I'd call him," she replied quietly.

"Besides, you want to come home to your friends don't you?" her mother continued, like a rabid dog with a bone. "That Damon character called for you today."

"Did he?" Tabby was surprised to find she felt absolutely nothing at the mention of his name and smiled to herself. "Look mom," she turned from the window and headed back to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, "I gotta go, it's late and I have to get up early here so…I'll talk to you soon okay?"

"Alright hun but just make sure you call your Uncle in the morning. Your Aunt Linda has been expecting to have you over for dinner. You really should make an effort to be more sociable Tabitha," her mother added, like squeezing lemon juice into an open wound. Tabby rolled her eyes.

"Love you mom. I'll call in a couple days."

"Take care of yourself honey."

It wasn't that she didn't think her parents were sincere, Tabby thought as she put the phone back on the charger and lay back on the bed. It was just that they refused to treat her like an adult capable of making adult decisions. _And what do you think they would say if they knew you were practically shacked up with a complete stranger? _Tabby grinnedas she reached over to pull his pillow to her, burying her face in it and inhaling his musky male scent. _They'd call the men in the little white coats is what they'd do_, she answered herself, _and I don't fucking care_.


	15. Chapter 15

_this is kinda short but I hope it's hot_

Chapter 14

When he put his key in the lock, Sidney had a moment's hesitation. He'd had the key made when he'd updated the locks on her doors from the old, easy to pick, easy to kick in for that matter, to newer deadbolts and sliding bars. Keeping a copy for himself bordered on stalker behavior but he was hoping she would see it more as a protective romantic gesture. Either way, he thought as he stepped into the still darkness of the witching hour, it was too late to go back now.

Edmonton had been a huge waste of time. The crowds hadn't been nearly what the guys had been lead to believe would show up. Certainly it was nice to be celebrated and it was always good to see some of the guys he would normally only see out on the ice in opposition jerseys but the entire time he'd been itching to get on a plane and get back to _her_.

As he vaulted the stairs two at a time, Sidney tugged his shirt over his head and hummed to himself. He felt better now, in the middle of the night, than he had in days. He didn't normally mind doing the kinds of events he'd been involved in over the last few days but this time it had been harder than usual and he'd had to ignore his mother's phone calls. They were wondering where he was and when he was coming home and if he would be there for dinner.

It wasn't like him to intentionally ignore them, but even if he'd told them that he was on the red eye, his mother would have expected him for breakfast and there was only one place he wanted to wake up and that was with Tabby in his arms.

As he pushed open the bedroom door, he found Tabby laying in a silvery pool of moonlight, sprawled across the middle of the Queen sized bed, the covers thrown aside. The night was sticky hot and he wasn't surprised to find her smooth skin bare to his eyes.

He unbuckled his belt and let his shorts slide to the floor, kicked off his shoes and slid onto the bed behind and beside her, sweeping her long, dark hair aside so he could press his lips to the nape of her neck. She sighed in her sleep and snuggled back against him. Emboldened, Sid kissed his way down her back, only stopping when she began to squirm as his lips found the small of her back.

"I missed you," he whispered, drawing her cool body against his, his lips brushing the shell of her ear before he dropped another kiss onto the round of her shoulder. Her reply was a contented sounding hum and the press of her body back against his and his body began to come alive accordingly. He pressed himself to the small of her back and slid his hand around to cup her breast. He felt her nipple hardening in his palm and felt his heart beat double. Her back arched and she let out a strangled cry as he bit down, his teeth digging into the silvery white flesh of her neck. She whimpered and reached back, her fingers digging into his hair, into his scalp.

She tasted of lavender soap and moonbeams, her skin warmed where he touched it, where it pressed against his. With one of her hands, she led his down, over her stomach and down, down into the valley between her legs. She tried to let go of his hand then, but he kept her fingers in his, guiding her hand to that pearl between her legs that made her draw a ragged breath between her teeth and sent a shudder throughout her entire body, leaving her covered in goose flesh.

Rolling her onto her back, Sidney continued to guide her hand with his own, while his lips surrounded the hard, pink bud of her nipple, drawing it into her mouth until her back arched and she began to whimper. Pressing her hand over the hard nub of her clit, as if to imply that she should continue what she was doing, Sidney slid his hand further down, slipping one finger and then two inside of her hot, wet entrance.

She moaned and pressed against his hand and Sidney looked up to watch her expression transform. He watched her bite down on her bottom lip as he swirled his tongue around her nipple and, at the same time, gently but firmly pressed his fingers inside of her as far as they would go until she raised her hips up off of the bed. She cried out, her head thrashing from side to side as the orgasm rolled over her. As her body began to relax, Sid lay beside her, watching her intently, his mind buzzing, full of emotions he was trying to rein in. When she opened her dark eyes and turned to smile at him he lost his tenuous hold.

"I love you."

* * *

It was the second best way she could think to wake up.

Tabby stretched like a contented cat as the orgasm ebbed, leaving her boneless, relaxed and content, ready for the next round. Turning to face the intruder, she opened her eyes and smiled into the hazel ones that were looking down into hers'.

"I love you."

They were three simple words but as he said them, his hand reaching out to tenderly press her hair back from her sweat slicked cheek, Tabby felt her pulse begin to beat so hard that it almost hurt as her blood roared through her veins. He was staring at her, boyish and expectant, waiting for her to say it back, and all she could think to do was pull his lips down over hers' so that she couldn't.

She parted her lips and reached for his tongue with hers and he answered in kind, kissing her hungrily, demandingly, and guilt pricked at her conscience. She was using his obvious state of arousal against him, knowing he'd have to give in to his 'little head' if she curved her leg around his just so, if she reached between them and lead his thick, hard cock towards her entrance. She had, however, no delusions that he'd forget that he'd said the words, or that he was still waiting for her to say them.

Or maybe not, she thought desperately. Maybe it was just one of those things you say in the heat of passion and it didn't really mean anything. Maybe he'd just said it because he thought she wanted to hear it and he was actually relieved that she hadn't said it back. '_Yeah right_,' she told herself, biting down on the inside of her cheek as he made a hard thrust that sent her skidding back across the sheets. '_You saw his face. It's probably the first time he's ever said those damn words_,' she thought, guilt gripping at her insides as he drew back to look down at her.

"I missed you too," she replied, her tongue sweeping out over his ear as his body moved over hers', thrusting inside of hers' as deep as he could go. She could pretend that's what she heard, play dumb, or even use the 'just woke up' card if he pressed it. But she couldn't say it.

Or could she? After all, wasn't that the reason she was sharing this house with him, that she wasn't even a little bit surprised that he was here, waking her up in the middle of the night, that she didn't even question how he got in? '_Because you trust him you dimwit,_' she grumbled to herself as pulled back again, this time reaching to cradle her face in his hands, that look, that damned hopeful look back on his face, his gaze earnestly searching hers'.

'_Damn it_!' she silently cursed as she looked up into that serious gaze, those boyishly handsome features that had made her weak at the knees from the very first moment. There was something so ludicrously honest about him but at the same time she couldn't ignore that voice at the back of her head that kept telling her that he was holding out on her, that there was something he wasn't telling her and how could she give him her heart when she hardly even knew him and yet….

And yet hadn't she already given it to him, if not in words at least in deed? As her lips and teeth travelled up the underside of his chin, as her teeth dug into the meaty flesh of his bottom lip and she heard him groan, she felt him take it, her heart scratching and digging its way out of her chest, for him.

"I love you," she whispered against his mouth, his breath warm and tasting faintly of whiskey as it mingled with hers'. His gaze softened, his gold flecked eyes filling with silvery tears and then he roughly captured her mouth and kissed her, hard. She tasted the coppery tang of blood and didn't care. She kissed him back just as hard, teeth clashing, tongues snaking out to flick against one another as their bodies battled, slamming into each other mercilessly, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks if not bruises, hip bones meeting, flesh raked and stinging.

Tabby reached back and grabbed hold of the brass headboard, using it as leverage, lifting her hips to meet him thrust for thrust, knowing she was close, so close. All the tenderness had leaked out of his gaze and had been replaced with a fire and a focus that would have been intimidating had she not felt the same determined, almost feral expression forcing her to bare her teeth at him and her eyes to flash what felt like a dare; '_I dare you to break me'_ or '_I dare you to make me scream'_.

Whether he read the look in her eyes or had become so attuned to her body language that he just knew, but with a growl that emanated from deep in his chest, Patrick dug his thick fingers into her waist, pulling her into him, over him, until he was completely sheathed deep within her and then he withdrew, slowly, until only the tip of his cock remained. She stared down the length of him, her juices making his dick glisten in the moonlight, and then he rammed it inside of her with one, quick hard thrust that left her with her mouth open in a silent 'o' and her eyes rolled back in her head as her climax took hold. It felt like she'd been plugged into an electrical socket, like she was riding a wave of current, her body bucking and shuddering as though she were being electrocuted. She barely acknowledged his own roar as her body clamped down around his like a vice, as if her pussy was a mouth with teeth threatening to rip his dick off and keep it inside of her, forever. All she could hear was the singing of her own blood in her ears and her voice, screaming his name.

* * *

Their bodies bathed in sweat, Sidney gathered her into his arms and curled protectively around her as they both shook in the aftermath of what he was fairly certain was the strongest, most earth shattering orgasm either of them had ever experienced. Tabby was crying softly, her face buried in his chest and Sid was surprised to find tears in his own eyes. He'd never, ever, in his life felt like this and it was unnerving and mind-blowing all at the same time. His heart was racing and it wasn't just from exertion. It was from admitting his feelings and seeing the look in her eyes when she'd repeated those words back to him….

Sidney had never imagined wanting anything the way he'd wanted the Stanley Cup or the way he'd been almost paralyzed by how much he had wanted the Olympic Gold Medal but in this moment, as he brushed his lips over her forehead, tasting the salt of her sweat on his lips, he knew he wanted her in the same way. He wanted to hold her and never let her go and it shook him to his core to know that he'd given her his heart so easily.

"Tabby cat," he whispered into her hair, and she purred in response, before nipping at him, biting down gently on his nipple and turning her eyes playfully up to meet his gaze. "You…," his voice failed him as he cupped her cheek in his hand. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, his voice cracking as his chest tightened, his heart constricting around an unfamiliar ball of emotion.

"I bet you say that to all the girls you get in bed with," she giggled, walking her fingers up his chest, digging in with her fingernails just enough to leave half moon indentations in his skin. He shook his head and started to deny it but the peal of Tabby's laughter made him pause. She grinned up at him and he couldn't resist kissing her, long and deep, drinking from her mouth.

"I should have asked you to come with me," he whispered against her mouth before brushing his lips over the tip of her nose and then onto her eyelids.

"On a business trip? _Borrrrinnng_," she mumbled, yawning and rolling over onto her stomach and putting her cheek down on her forearms. "I'm glad you came back though," she added with a grin.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" he asked, rolling onto his side and reaching out to run his fingers down her back, tracing the wave of her spine from her shoulders to where it dipped at the small of her back, before he let the flat of his hand run down to cup the swell of her ass.

"I don't know, I guess it was a possibility," she replied, hiding another yawn behind her hand.

"No," he shook his head, sliding closer to her and pressing his lips down onto her bare shoulder, "it wasn't." She gave him a playful smile and Sidney felt his body reacting again to that glint in her eye. He slid his hand lower, sliding it down between her thighs where it was wet and warm. She closed her eyes and sighed and settled her thighs farther apart. Kissing his way across her shoulders, Sidney crawled over her, until he was straddling her thighs. With his hands on her hips, he began to nudge at her opening.

She giggled and muttered something sleepily like 'again?' but pulled her knees up beneath her and let him settle himself between her thighs. He slid in easily, her pussy wet and relaxed and yet it still took his breath away as he felt her muscles welcoming him in, pulling him deeper. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he began to rock into her, pulling her hips, the cushion of her ass towards him.

He wasn't going to last and he knew it. He was tired and his head was reeling with all the strange new emotions swimming around in his brain. Reaching forward, he captured one of her breasts in his hand, felt it swing, the soft, smooth skin filling his hand. He squeezed her nipple, stroking it to a hard point, rolling the nub between his fingers until she moaned and he felt her tighten around his shaft. Dragging a ragged breath through his teeth, he slid his hand back along her ribcage until he found the soft bare mound of her pussy and slid his fingers down, into the warm, moist valley, until he found her clit. He slid his fingers over it and heard her answering gasp, a sound that made him wish he could last longer, tease her, bring her before he climaxed but he could already feel that weight in his balls, could hear the buzzing in his ears that told him there was very little chance of that.

She pressed back against him and whimpered, and Sidney knew that she didn't want slow, didn't want gentle, and with a tired smile, he raised his free hand and brought it down on the lily white skin of her ass with a resounding 'smack'. Her high pitched cry and the ensuing squeeze of her muscles around his dick was just too much. He felt the blackness coming, the little death, and pumped into her as hard and fast as he could, using his thumb and forefinger on her clit in hard, swift little circles that matched his rhythm and hear her begin to pant. At the very least he wanted her to cum with him, wanted to feel those rhythmic little squeezes around his cock, milking him dry.

"Are you close?" he asked, his voice hoarse, having to force it past the wolf like howl waiting to erupt from his throat.

"Yessss," she hissed, and Sidney raised his free hand again, bringing it down hard on her ass, hard enough to make her yelp but it also made her back arch, her pussy constrict and those little ripples, those little spasms erupt around his cock that told him he could let go. His own back arched and his eyes squeezed shut and he let out a cry that was entirely primal, a wave of pleasure erupting from his balls that went all the way up to the tip of his head.

As soon as the ringing stopped in his ears and he could breathe again, Sidney collapsed onto the bed and once again, Tabby curled into him, backing her ass into his middle. He wrapped his arms around her and felt their heart beats begin to slow together until they were both breathing in that shallow, slow way that says sleep isn't far off. Leaning in to brush her cheek with his lips, he whispered those words to her again and watched as her full mouth curled up into a contented smile.

"I love you too, Patrick," she whispered, reaching back to grab at his hand, lacing her fingers in his and pulling his arm around her like a blanket.

Sidney stared into the dark and felt all of the wonderful, crazy, new emotions he'd been feeling ebb away as a lead weight of guilt built in the pit of his stomach. He'd told her he loved her, and he meant every single solitary word, and he'd lied through his teeth at the same time.

He would tell her tomorrow, he promised himself. He'd explain everything and apologize and it would all be okay, he hoped.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 15

Except he didn't.

Not the next day, or even the next week. He told himself that he was waiting for the right time, but before he knew it his birthday was only a few days away and he was hip deep in lies and getting ready to tell the woman he'd fallen deeply and devotedly in love with, yet another lie.

"I have to go away this weekend," he explained, that now very heavy lead weight that sat in his gut most days seemed to grow as he spoke.

"Yeah?" Tabby leaned around the canvas, paint brush in hand and smiled. "Where to this time? The Bunny Ranch?" she added in a teasing tone before disappearing again behind the canvas. Sidney leaned a little harder on the hand rail of the stairs. He'd been standing like this, in nothing but his jeans and a tool belt for over an hour and the house was like an oven.

"You should put in central air," he mentioned to which Tabby's sarcastic reply, muttered mostly under her breath, was something akin to 'must have hit the nail on the head.' "I'm just going to see my parents," he explained, which only added further to his feelings of guilt and dread. He'd hardly seen anything for his family for the entire summer and the last two conversations he'd had with his mother had been frosty, to say the least.

"Any special occasion?" she asked and it didn't take a rocket scientist to detect the other question that she wasn't asking in the tone of her voice. They'd been dating for over two months now, she was bound to be curious about his family and, after all, she'd met some of his friends. Speaking of which….

"Yeah…uh…," Sidney thought about lying, about saying it was Taylor's birthday, but then she'd met Taylor, sort of, and aside from that, he couldn't stomach another lie. "It's my birthday on Saturday." He heard the brush stop moving against the canvas and steeled himself for when she put it, and her palette, down.

"And you're going to go see your parents for the entire weekend?" She didn't look around the canvas at him and he could hear the hurt in her voice. It was his birthday and he wasn't including her, despite the fact that he'd told her he loved her now, he couldn't count how many times, and they'd been living together the entire summer, and now he wasn't going to share his day with her.

"It's going to be this lame family dinner thing, grandparents and everything, really boring. But then some of the guys are going to come up and I thought we could have a barbeque out on the deck." _And I better have manned up and told you by then_, he told himself sternly, because Gronk was planning on bringing Heather and Flower was bringing Vero and it was one thing to ask the guys to lie but their girlfriends too?

"Oh," was all that came from the other side of the canvas and Sid's shoulders sagged. There was no way of taking her to meet his parents. Not only he was prepared to put a ring on it and there was no way that Troy was going to understand wanting to do that with a girl he'd only met a couple of months ago.

Now if he talked her into moving to Pittsburgh with him, something he hoped to do by the end of the summer, then, by Christmas, he hoped his parents would accept his decision. But before he could do that, he had to grow a pair and tell her the truth.

"Tabs," he put the hammer he was holding into his belt and walked down the two stairs and across to where she was, for all intents and purposes, hiding behind the canvas. "Sweetheart, I'd take you, honestly I would but ask any of the boys, my dad is the asshole of assholes and…," he reached out to brush her hair back from a lick of paint on her cheek that was holding it there, "I don't want to go, much less without you, but I'd rather do that than have you…hurt by him." Tabby nodded, but refused to meet his gaze until he lifted her chin in his hand. Her dark, chocolate brown eyes glittered with unshed tears. "Tabs…," he began, but she shook off his hand and turned away from him.

"Don't…don't patronize me Patrick." Sidney admired the way she got her emotions into check, how strong her backbone was as she turned back to face him, the silvery glimmer of tears gone, her chin high. "Just say you're not ready for me to meet your family," she added, wiping her hands down the sides of yet another one of his dress shirts. He made a mental note to do some shopping while he was in town. He reached or her again but again she brushed off his advances and turned to head up the stairs.

Sidney knew better than to follow. One of the things that he liked best about Tabby was how even keeled she was. She didn't get clingy or over emotional like so many girls seemed to, but when she got in a mood, he'd learned it was best to stay well clear of her. She'd come around, in her own time, and with any luck he'd be forgiven or at the very least she wouldn't bring it up again.

Not that it made it better and not that it was bringing him any closer to telling her what he needed to tell her. He had no reason to keep it from her now, other than the fact that he would have to admit that he'd been less than truthful with her and that was harder to overcome than he had thought it would be. As he looked at the painting she was currently working on, besides the embarrassing way she always made him out to be some kind of super sexy GQ hunk, she also seemed to make him out to be a sort of knight in shining armor, far closer to perfect than he could hope to actually be.

It was a lot to live up to, and he tried to. He tried to be the doting, romantic boyfriend and with Tabby, it was hardly like he had to work at it. He wanted to be with her, all of the time. He couldn't get enough of her, but therein lay the problem. The real him, Sidney Crosby, NHL star, didn't have time for a relationship like this. Once he told her, once he revealed his true identity, he'd have to explain how he hardly had time to see anyone, that he rarely dated, that he more often than not he would fall asleep watching movies, that instead of cuddling he'd be snoring his head off. He'd have to tell her that the best he could offer was a couple of hours a day, if he didn't have a list of meetings with endorsement representatives, photo shoots and autograph sessions. Not to mention being away for entire weeks at a time….

That was what he wasn't looking forward to. That and bursting the idyllic little bubble over the paradise they'd built together over the summer. This had been the happiest he'd been…well since he'd won the Cup and even then, for the most part, he'd been too tired half of the time to truly enjoy all of those activities.

He'd tell her when he came back; for sure this time.

* * *

"So you _are_ alive, we were beginning to think you were dead in a ditch somewhere and nobody had bothered to report it," Taylor muttered as she came through the door, dropping her backpack on the floor and heading down the hall towards her bedroom. Sidney watched her go and kept his mouth shut. His mother was upset enough without him picking a fight with his sister on top of everything else.

"She has a point," his grandmother pointed, narrowing her eyes over the lip of her coffee mug at him.

"I know Nana Cathy," he sighed. "But I have things to do, obligations," he lied. He seemed to do nothing but lie these days.

"During the summer?" she asked, in that tone that said she didn't believe that anymore than his mother had, though his mother, in the way that she always did, managed to look disappointed and hurt but say nothing. It was worse than yelling at him and he was pretty sure she knew it too.

"I'm an adult, I don't live at home," he added grudgingly. "I don't have to tell everyone my business."

"So you've got a girl eh?" The old woman looked at him with her shrewd eyes and Sidney winced.

"Fucking Taylor," he muttered, he thought, under his breath.

"Don't blame your sister. It's written all over your face. You can hardly wait to get out of here. You've been looking at your watch ever since you got here. Now the Sidney I know, that used to mean you couldn't wait to get out and play street hockey. I'm guessing this Sidney…well, I can only think of one thing that young men around here think about more than hockey." She didn't need to say more. That knowing little grin of hers' said that she could see right through him and Sidney felt the heat burning beneath his skin as he met her gaze. "I thought so," she added with a slight nod as she sat back in her chair. Together they listened to the sounds of his parents bickering in the kitchen while Sidney fidgeted.

"Nan," he began, cracking his knuckles as if that would alleviate the tension he was feeling about asking the question that had been lurking in his brain ever since he'd gotten into the car to come here. The older woman raised her eyes to him and raised a single eyebrow. "Do you remember telling me…if the time came…I mean, _when_ the time came, that you had a ring…that I could use your ring…." His hands were sweating like he was on his knees, asking Tabby the big question instead of just asking for the ring to do it with.

"So this girl…it's serious?" his grandmother asked, a smile on her face that said she was pleased that her eldest grandson might be providing the prospect of great grandchildren. Sidney nodded, sending a furtive glance towards the kitchen that had just grown silent. "Come here." His grandmother beckoned him forward and keeping an ear out for the sound of his father's footsteps, Sidney crossed the room and watched as his grandmother struggled to pull the white gold band with the small solitaire diamond off of her gnarled, wizened finger. Sidney had always admired the elegant style of the band with its filigree sides and crown setting. His grandfather had saved for years for it and given it to his grandmother after they'd been married for years. It looked tiny in his hand and yet it seemed to weigh a hundred pounds. "I know I don't have to ask if you're sure," his grandmother said to him, closing his hands around the ring and holding both of his in her own as she smiled up at him. "I know you wouldn't ask unless you were but…I hope you'll let us meet her soon. I'd like to know who this is going to."

"You will Nana," he promised quietly, bending to place a tender kiss on his grandmother's cheek. "I just have to make sure she's sure about me first."

"And what girl wouldn't be sure about my favorite grandson?" she asked, grinning up at him adoringly, making Sidney wish he was worthy of that sort of sentiment.

"What's this about a girl?" Troy's voice boomed behind him making Sidney stiffen.

"We were just talking about Max," Taylor slid into the chair that Sidney had just left empty and sent him a look that clearly said 'you owe me'. He nodded, letting her know he knew it. "How he keeps trying to get Sid in trouble and I can't believe it hasn't happened yet," Taylor continued and Sidney couldn't help but wonder at how well and how smoothly she lied. Maybe it ran in the family.

"You should watch it with that one, and some of your other teammates," his father agreed. "Some of those boys are just…trouble," the big man added, digging his meaty fingers into Sidney's shoulder.

"They're okay dad," Sid muttered and tried not to breathe too big a sigh of relief.

"Still…keep your head up son," Troy added, patting his son on the back hard enough that Sid had to cough to cover up the fact that it made him sputter. "Now, who's for birthday cake?"

* * *

"I'll be in touch." Tabby looked down at the card that had just been put in her hand and nodded. She had no doubt that the tiny woman in the high heels and the 'all business' suit with the high frilled collar meant it. In fact, she promised she already had an interested party. "Don't worry, it won't take long." Tabby watched the woman's small, spider like fingers curl around her wrist, covered in rings and long, fake fingernails painted in a sort of flesh tone that made them look even longer and skinnier, like a dead hand reaching out of a grave. Tabby nodded and forced herself to look up into the woman's face, but just as she had all afternoon, she kept staring at the mole on her chin.

"She's sorry she left it so late, aren't you Tabby Cat?" Tabby winced, her shoulders hunching, her entire body going very still as she turned to stare up at her Uncle's face.

"You heard Margie, it won't take long," Tabitha painted a happy smile on her face that she didn't feel as her Uncle pressed his hand down on her shoulder. All of these people had a hold on her and none of them had her permission.

"I'll walk you to your call Margie." The woman, with her too pink lipstick and her giant chin mole batted her too fake eyelashes up at her Uncle and Tabby tried not to breathe the sigh of relief she felt too loud when they turned to walk down the steps. She watched them go and made a nasty little face at their backs and then turned to hide a childish smile.

That's when the gravel flew in the driveway. Tabby was hardly turned around when she heard his feet hit the path. She watched him read the sign that her Uncle had helped to dig into the front lawn and then she watched as he turned his face up to find her. His usually handsome features were twisted in an ugly way, his nostrils flaring wide, his gold flecked eyes going dark, his soft pink lips turned up in a grimace.

"You couldn't wait until my back was turned," he snarled, pointing at the sign. Tabby felt her forehead wrinkle as she watched him turn to glare at her Uncle and the estate agent before he marched up the path, his fists clenched. If this had been a cartoon, there would have been smoke coming out of his ears, flames coming out of his nose and maybe he would have pawed the path with his sneakers like a bull about to charge. Picturing it like that made it a little easier to have him turn that glare at her as he reached out to clamp his hand around her upper arm and drag her into the house, stumbling after him.

She heard the screen door slam over and over behind them, creaking on its' hinges and wondered if her Uncle would be coming up hard on Patrick's heels, demanding an explanation, but for a few moments, there was only silence interrupted by the sound of Patrick pacing the kitchen floor.

"Why?" he finally asked, coming to rest in front of the old fashioned white Irish sink, gripping its edges so hard his knuckles turned white. "Why now?"

"You knew," she ventured quietly, confused by the vehemence of his reaction. "From the very first day I met you, you knew I was selling this house."

"But you don't have to!"He curled one hand into a fist and pounded it against the counter before turning his still twisted, angry face at her. "You don't have to!" he said again, and this time his voice cracked and his face fell, and now he looked like a little boy who'd just dropped his ice cream on the ground. Part of her wanted to go to him, put her arms around him and kiss it better, but the other part was just a little bit hurt and angry at him already and kind of liked seeing him this way.

"I know you helped and all and I know…I mean I haven't said anything, but I know you must have paid for some of the materials even though I didn't ask you to, but that doesn't mean I'm going to discuss with you when I put _my_ house up for sale." Tabby was amazed at how calm she felt. Earlier, when she'd had to sign the document with the estate agent, agreeing to the price that she was to try and earn for the house, Tabby had cried. Now, she felt cold inside, like there was a solid steel rod running straight through her and she wasn't about to bend.

"That's what you think this is about?" Patrick's eyes where wide as he shook his head and then laughed bitterly at her. "You think I care about the price of a couple of cans of fucking paint? How about what's happened in this house? How about the business and that your grandfather gave you this house to look after and that he trusted you to run his business?"

It wasn't the argument she'd been preparing herself for and it took her a little off guard. She'd been ready for emotional blackmail, but this….

"I'm sorry…you don't get to talk about my grandfather and what he wanted. You didn't know him and I guess you don't know me." It hurt to say, more than she'd bargained that it would but she stared him down and felt that cool core start to freeze over. "I don't know about you but I have bills to pay and a home to get back to and he knew that and I thought you did too," she added, crossing her arms and staring at him where he was still standing staring at her from the sink.

"Home?" he spat, that bitter laughter opening up again. "You don't have a home to go to anymore than I do," he added. "Some fucking place to sleep and store your clothes. This…_this_ is a fucking home," he continued holding his hands wide.

"For someone, yes," she agreed quietly and that seemed to hit home or at least it made him stumble and his expression returned to that of a kicked puppy. Tabby had vowed that she wouldn't allow him to play the sympathy card successfully, that if he made those big puppy dog eyes at her she wouldn't give in. There was something he was hiding and though she'd decided she didn't really want to know what it was, or at least if there really was a wife somewhere else on this godforsaken island. She just didn't want to made a fool of. "Why don't you go back to…wherever you came from where they obviously love you more than I do, only this time, don't come back."

He stared at her like she'd grown another head, or worse, like she'd been horribly disfigured and any feelings he may have had before seemed to dissolve. His mouth twisted into an ugly grimace and then he swore under his breath.

"You don't mean it," he growled at her and Tabby thought, just for a moment, that there was just a hint of an actual plea in his voice. Taking a deep breath to help steel her resolve, she smiled at him, and shrugged a shoulder.

"This," she made a circle with her finger in front of her chest, "was never anything. I get that now so…go. You have my blessing. Go back to _her_ or whatever…just go," she felt her knees began to buckle as she issued the order but she visualized that steel rod going straight down her spine and into the floor and resolved not to crumble in front of him. He'd made her love him, and maybe she did still, but he'd shown his true colours now. Coming in here, shouting the odds, telling her what she could and couldn't do and adding that to his disappearing act during which time, though he'd known how disappointed she was, he hadn't so much as called her.

Maybe she'd regret it, for a while, but it had been bound to end, she told herself as he stood there, staring at her with his teeth bared like some kind of feral hound. The summer was almost over and this was better, it would make it easier, if they didn't make a bunch of promises that both of them knew they couldn't keep. Especially if what she told herself was true. He could never belong to her. He was too perfect, too good to be true and if something seems too good to be true….

"You're right," he finally said at last, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair. "I should thank you, really. This was a fucking lucky escape. You're some kind of…," he paused and looked her up and down as if he was looking at some cheap whore, "you're obviously a couple pages short of a book."With that he looked at her, silently, one last time and Tabby thought he was going to say something else, something sweet and tender like he usually did and both of them would dissolve into tears and she would feel foolish and forgive him and… "I don't usually fall for cheap. I don't know what I was thinking."Tabby bit back a gasp and stood staring at him with her hands clenched at her sides as he turned and walked away. She heard the engine of the SUV roar and the spray of gravel as he spun the tires and then there was nothing but silence.

* * *

Sidney stared at the lake, watching the fish jump at the blackflies and thought about how much he had loved it here. He'd loved the silence and that people respected his privacy, for the most part, and that he had his own space to do whatever he wanted in.

Now he hated it.

Now when he looked at the lake he thought of her. He thought of her laugh and her smile and her pale skin in the moonlight. He thought of her ripe lips and the way her skin tasted and the way she would smile at him when he walked in the door.

Of course it was his fault for not telling her the truth. He knew that. But he hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected the for sale sign on the front lawn or the defensive way she met him. He would no sooner harm a single hair on her head but she couldn't have known that the way he dragged her inside the house. It had all just knocked him sideways and he hadn't been prepared.

Sidney hated not being prepared. He hated not knowing what to expect or what to do when things happened. It's why he watched hours of tapes and why he was always the first one on the ice and the last one off of it. He hated the unexpected. If anyone ever so much as threw him a surprise party…well it would have been sort of like this, he thought as he reached into his pocket and withdrew his grandmother's ring. He turned it over in his hand, letting the last rays of sunlight bounce off of it.

This should have been so different. He'd had it all planned out. He had been going to tell her, everything. He was going to lay it all out for her, and show her how she fit in his plans for the rest of his life. She was going to say yes and then the guys were going to arrive and….

"Mon ami, ce que l'enfer qui s'est passé? Nous sommes allés à sa maison et l'endroit est sombre."

It was Tanger and close on his heels, Flower and Max. He imagined the girls were waiting on in the driveway, in case they were walking into a minefield. He hadn't told them his plans, or they would probably have called ahead. He'd wanted them to be surprised.

_Well_, he thought bemusedly, '_surprise_!'

"Does anyone feel like Vegas?" he asked, turning that ring over and over between his fingers, part of him seriously considering throwing it in the lake.

"Did someone say Vegas?" Jordan bounced to the end of the deck and cannon balled into the water, sending a spray up and around where Sidney was sitting. It annoyed him but then, just about everything was bound to in the mood he was in. "I could go for Vegas," Jordan added as he surfaced, shaking water out of his hair and bobbing in the dark water like a seal, with only his blue eyes and the tips of his blonde hair catching the light.

"Vegas it is," Sidney sighed, pocketing the ring and turning to head back into his cold, empty house.

* * *

Tabitha held the cheque she'd received from Harlequin in her hand a moment longer before putting it in the envelope and letting it disappear into the auto feeder at the bank machine. It was enough to get her home and pay a month and half rent somewhere.

She'd packaged up her paintings earlier and had them shipped by UPS. The hockey one was nothing more than a rough sketch at the moment, far from finished, so that canvas was rolled up and in a shipping tube with the rest of her bags. It had seemed like a lot, when she'd landed here a couple of months ago. Now it seemed like very little, she thought, as she watched the driver load them into the back of the taxi.

"Let me know when it sells," she sighed as she turned to put the ring of keys into her Uncle's hand. He had sounded confused when she'd called him. He looked confused to be receiving the keys now but she noticed he wasn't exactly begging her to stay either.

Not that there was any point in staying.

Not now.

"Your mother will be happy to have you home," her Uncle offered, pocketing the keys. She watched them disappear into his pocket and felt her heart miss a beat. Making the decision to leave was one thing. Watching those keys disappear…well it made it all real.

It was over and she thought it would go down as the best and the worst summer of her entire life. She nodded her answer. Her mother would be happy that she'd finally put the place up for sale and then she'd go back to nagging her about making a real decision about the rest of her life but that was something she could deal with when she got home.

"Well, I guess this is it," she sighed as she began to step down off of the porch. She felt the tears fill her eyes then. There was still a part of her that was hoping his car would come up the driveway now and that he'd beg her forgiveness and tell her what it was that he was hiding and tell her again how he loved her. She even looked down the road as far as she could, hoping to see some tell tale cloud of dust…but there was nothing.

He wasn't coming and she was leaving and that, it seemed, was that.

"Well…I guess this is it." Her Uncle pulled her in for an awkward hug, obligatory because they were family, but it wasn't like they knew one another. "Tell your mom hi for me. Tell her she should come out and visit some time." Tabby nodded, knowing her mother wouldn't be leaving her suburban oasis any time soon for a stretch of rock by a lake, even if she told her that it was a piece of heaven. Her mother would just look at her like she'd lost her mind, which reminded her.

"Do you know a blonde girl…Taylor, down at the hardware store?" she asked, as her Uncle finally allowed her to unwind from his arms. Her Uncle looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. Tabby bounced back up the steps and retrieved a brown paper wrapped painting, wound with plain white string. "Give this to her…tell her it's for her mom." Her Uncle took the small package and was staring at it when Tabby took his moment of distraction to escape down to the waiting taxi. "Airport," she said quietly as she slipped into the back seat.

She told herself not to turn around, not to look back. What was done was done. That didn't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks and it didn't stop her heart from breaking inside of her chest.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 16

"It was like providence or something, your calling when you did," Tabby explained, linking her arm in her friend's arm as they walked down the street. "I was already having my doubts about what I was doing there," she added, trying to ignore the voice in the back of her head that kept saying she'd been too rough on him, that she hadn't given him an opportunity to explain. "You gave me just the push I needed to get my head out of the clouds. You know what they say about too good to be true."

"Believe me honey, if anyone does it's me. How many times have you been there for me when I've picked yet another married jerk who swears he's about to leave his wife?" Tabby tried to hide a smirk behind her cup. Poor Mel, she did seem to be a magnet for married men. It was probably her carefree nature. "I'm just glad you wised up to his bullshit before you ended up following him who knows where, into some shitty little apartment…." Tabby held up her hands and shook her head.

"I know, I know. I can't believe I was this close to begging him to take me with him and I didn't even know where he lived," she added, giving a little shudder at the thought.

"Well I'm just sorry it's taken a month to get this show going," Mel apologized for what seemed to Tabby like the hundredth time since she'd arrived back in Vancouver. "I had no idea just how much fixing up the gallery needed. It looked fine to me when I saw it with the agent," she added as they rounded the corner together and headed down the street towards the new art gallery slash store that her friend and class mate Mel had just sunk her inheritance into.

"Well, let's just hope we sell some paintings then," Tabby laughed as they stopped at the coffee house on the corner. Mel ordered and Tabby didn't argue. She really needed to sell some paintings. What with the flight home, tuition and rent, she didn't have a lot of money left over, and she hadn't managed to complete any of the commissions Harlequin had sent her. Not without her muse.

"I just wish we had more of the stuff you did of that lake," Mel said, turning to hand Tabby a Venti caramel macchiato. "I think those are gonna go like hotcakes."

"You don't have to do the whole art dealer sell on me Mel," Tabby snorted as she wrapped her fingers around the cup. It hadn't exactly got cold in the mornings, but it felt good to have her hands wrapped around the warm cup anyways. She inhaled the strong scent of espresso mixed with sweet caramel and her stomach growled in response.

"And you don't have to do the whole starving artist thing on me," Mel grinned, handing her a donut.

"I had oatmeal this morning," Tabby replied, partly to herself as she bit into the oversize, sugar glazed goodness of the gooey ring of deep fried fat.

"You're probably just replacing sex with food," Mel said as if she knew what she was talking about and both women laughed as they headed back onto the street. "Tell me again about your muse," Mel added, sighing wistfully. Mel had taken one look at the jpgs on Tabby's pc and demanded the entire lurid story.

"I'd never realized you were a romantic at heart," Tabby replied, evading the question as she sipped on her coffee.

"Oh yeah, I love a good mushy romance, and what you had," she grinned as they stopped in front of the gallery and Mel began to fish in her pockets for the keys, "was perfect right up until he called you cheap. I would have shoved my fist in his nose," she added as she stuck her key in the lock. "You were way more mature than I would have been."

"Oh I don't know about that," Tabby mumbled, the part of her that was still clinging to the belief that he really had been that perfect causing that little voice in the back of her head to get louder. "I'm not sure that running away was the most mature option I could have taken." That was the other thing that wasn't sitting so well with her. It had never really been like her to cut and run but the more she'd had time to think the more she'd convinced herself that he had someone else and that idea, more than anything else had made her run.

"Believe me, if he's already lying to you and he hasn't even made any kind of commitment, it's just going fucking downhill from there," Mel replied sagely as she turned the lights on and, for the first time, Tabby found herself standing in a room full of her work.

"Sheeit." Tabby turned in a slow circle in the middle of the room, taking in the white washed walls, the subdued lighting and her work, hanging at eye level with spotlights and little cards next to them with her name on them.

"Impressed?" Mel asked, now having ditched her jacket, was wearing a black and silver gypsy top and matching broomstick skirt, looking every inch the art dealer.

"Overwhelmed," Tabby grinned, grabbing her friend in a bear hug.

"Good, it's good to see you smile again," her friend whispered and as she stepped back and held her at arm's length. "I'm telling you, if I met your muse boy, I'd kick him in the nuts."

"Thanks but I don't think I'm going to run into him again," Tabitha sighed as she rubbed at her nose. "What perfume are you wearing?"

"Calypso Bellini, why, you want to borrow some for later?" Tabby shook her head and breathed in through her mouth.

"I dunno, must be coming down with something," she laughed, dismissing the tickle in her nose as she headed for the centerpiece of the collection. It was a larger canvas, a bigger, more sweeping version of the painting she'd left behind to for Patrick's mom of the doe and fawn. "Three thousand Mel? That's a bit steep, don't you think?" she asked, staring at the price written on the name tag. "I know I said I wasn't sure if I wanted to part with it, but…."

"Oh you'll part with it," her friend replied, leaning her head on Tabby's shoulder. "Everyone that's seen this one wants it, including me, but I'll be damned if either one of us is going to part with it for nothing. Now…I have all these flyers to fold and the champagne is being delivered in a couple hours, are you going to stay and help or what?"

"If you're going to get us money like that, then yeah, I'm your indentured servant, at least until tomorrow morning. Maybe then I'll be too rich and famous for you."

* * *

Sidney sat on the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Yawning, he stretched his back and winced. That was just another problem with not sleeping in your own bed, he thought to himself critically, not everyone could afford a posturepedic mattress.

"Where are you going? Come back to bed." He didn't even turn around. It was the same every time and he had his customary answer ready.

"I have practice." It wasn't a lie. It was an optional, but he went to every practice. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing optional about being in peak condition. Sid reached for his jeans, discarded on the floor next to the bed, and dragged them on.

"But you'll call right?" There it was, the hopeful all too eager follow up question. Sid smirked as he reached for his dress shirt, taking the time to button it properly. It might only be practice, and half of the guys would know he was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing last night but there was still no point in going in with the buttons in the wrong holes.

"I'm not gonna call," he admitted as he turned, doing the last button up, grabbing his tie from where it had landed, draped over the lamp shade next to the bed. "And no, I probably won't see you again." He knew what it sounded like and he didn't look back. He didn't want to see the expression on her face go from hopeful, maybe even playful, to scorn, even hate. _But it isn't a lie_, he thought, rolling his tie up and putting it in the pocket of his suit jacket.

She'd probably face-book her friends later that he was a lousy lay, and maybe she'd be right about that, he thought as he walked out of the room, already pulling his blackberry out to call a taxi to take him to the arena. He didn't much care. This hadn't been about her, so her feelings didn't exactly come into it. She was just another girl with long dark hair that had, when he was onto his fifth glass of bourbon, reminded him of Tabby.

He knew it was bordering on pathetic and the guys definitely gave him the gears about it, but every time he convinced himself that he was over her, he'd see some girl with legs as long as a summer day and a thick mane of ebony hair and he couldn't help himself. If he couldn't have her, and he'd tried to find a Tabitha King on face book, twitter….he'd even had his agent put out feelers, everything short of hiring a private detective, with no luck.

If only he hadn't run, but it was way too late for what if's. He blamed the anger management work he'd been doing with the team psychologist. He'd been working so hard over the past two years to 'cage the rage' as the sports therapist called it, that it had just come naturally to him to turn and walk away when he'd felt the red mist settle around him.

And going to Vegas? Well, that wasn't the most mature move he'd ever made. Of course he hadn't really thought that she'd actually be gone when he got back, with his tail between his legs, ready to tell her everything and beg her forgiveness but instead of her he'd found an empty house and some snot nosed acne riddled teenager behind the counter of the bait shop.

And now? Well now he was sleeping his way through the regular season schedule with anything that looked remotely like her and feeling emptier inside every morning he crawled out of some stranger's bed. But for an hour, or maybe, if they played along, a few hours, these girls whose names he didn't want to know, were Tabby and he could be with her again.

"Feel better?" Jordy asked, rhetorically, as he fell into step beside him in the hallway. He didn't need to be told that his behavior was far from his usual habits.

"You up to wind sprints this morning?" Sidney asked, changing the subject and getting in a dig of his own. His tall, blonde friend rolled his eyes in response and both chuckled as Sidney pushed the door open and walked out to the waiting taxi.

* * *

"I told you it would sell," Mel whispered into Tabby's ear, handing her another flute of champagne and grinning broadly. "And full price too," she added as the two stood side by side, watching the young couple who were standing in front of the centerpiece of the show. "Go on," Mel gave her a little shove in their direction. "Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll offer to be your patron."

This was why Tabby preferred the whole commercial side of the art world; having to thank people for putting money in her pocket made her feel awkward, at best, and a lot like a panhandler at the worst. Gulping down the champagne and letting the bubbles fill her head, she walked over to the couple who were still admiring their purchase.

"I was a little reluctant to let this one go," she said hesitantly from just behind them. Both turned to look at where the voice was coming from. They were adorable, young and stylish, and it reminded Tabby of just how painfully alone she was in her black cocktail dress on a night that was important to her, but with no one to share it with.

"It reminds her of Bambi," the ruggedly handsome young husband teased his wife, brushing his lips against her cheek as she made a face at him. It was an intimate moment and Tabby almost felt like she was intruding except that neither of them seemed to mind.

"Well, I don't think any of us ever gets over Bambi's mom…you know," she added putting her finger to her temple and miming pulling the trigger of a gun. Thankfully they both laughed. "Hi, I'm Tabitha, the artist." Tabbi rolled her eyes as she held her hand out to them both. "I'm sorry but it sounds so pretentious when I say that out loud."

"I'm Kevin, this is my wife Katie and _that_," he said hooking his thumb towards the painting, "is going in our daughter's room,"

"I wanted to put it in a plain wood frame, you know, reclaimed wood. Like something from an old house or barn or something. But Mel, she owns the gallery," Tabbi added, hooking her thumb towards where Mel seemed to be deep in discussion with another client near one of her paintings of the lake. "She said something about not making decisions for the client and how it confuses them when they're trying to decide about where it fits in their house."

"But those ones are framed," Kevin replied, raising his eyebrow as he turned to look at some of the Harlequin prints.

"Well those ones are just prints. The originals are…well, they belong to a commercial company so they don't really count," Tabbi explained.

"Oh yeah?" he walked towards the wall where two of the prints were hung. Tabby felt herself flush as he turned back to her. "Like this guy needs more cash am I right Katie?" She watched as the two of them looked over the prints and felt her heart flutter in her chest like a caged bird.

"You know Patrick?" she asked, her voice almost catching in her throat as she said his name.

"Patrick?" Kevin turned to her and then back to the picture. "Huh…guess not. Must just look like someone." He shrugged, reaching for his wife's hand and Tabby felt her heart sink.

"Well…enjoy the picture," she said quietly, heading for the privacy of the bathroom and some cold water to splash on her face.

* * *

They'd taken Philly down easily, almost too easily, he thought as he leaned against the bar, a glass of JD in one hand as he surveyed the bar. Max and Tanger had a couple of girls cornered near the dance floor. Jordan had a leggy blonde bent over the pool table, his arms along hers' '_correcting'_ her shot. Dupes and Flower had a row of shots lined up and it looked like TK was planning on going head to head with one of the veterans, the goalie everyone called Johnny. Sid thought about going over to place a bet against TK on that when two girls walked by, one with playfully short brown hair and glasses, the other a little taller with a lean athletic build and long, long black hair brushing the small of her back.

"Give me a bottle of your best champagne," he snapped his fingers at the bartender as he kept his eyes glued on the two girls. The bartend reached into the bar fridge below the cash register and handed it to Sidney along with two champagne flutes.

"Again?" Gogo asked as Sid pushed off from the bar and began to follow the girls. Sid didn't answer, merely shrugged. "Why don't you go after the real thing instead of this…bullshit?" he asked. Sid paused, staring after the girls before turning back to Gogo.

"If I knew where the real thing was, I would," he replied with a shrug. It was the truth and it was all he could say and the only answer he could give.

He took the bottle and the glasses and began to push his way through the crowd looking for the girls. It wasn't the answer, he knew it, but this is what he had. Tabby was like a ghost and she'd disappeared and he didn't think he was ever going to feel what he'd felt in her arms.

"Looking for me?" a husky voice matched with sharp fingernails dragging down his arm got his attention and he turned to find the red lips of the dark haired girl close to his. He nodded and she smiled like the cat that got the cream.

"I want to blow this joint," he said hoarsely as she slid her other hand around to grab his ass. "Coming?" He held the bottle up and she smiled, her smoky eyes creasing as she devoured him with her gaze.

"And coming and coming," she purred, leaning in until her tongue was sweeping up his cheek and around his ear.

"We'll see," he replied, reaching for her hand and leading her out of the bar.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 17

"The Bieksa's back," Mel announced as she rounded the corner to the back of the gallery where Tabby was currently emailing another order to Harlequin for more prints. She got a piece of each, more a taste really, but Harlequin was happily getting the larger chunk of change for each sale.

"The who?" Tabby didn't even look up from her task. It didn't matter if she was only getting five dollars from the sale of every print. Every five dollars kept her from having to move in with her mother and the way her mother had been since she'd gotten back from the Island…

"You know, that über cute couple who bought the Bambi painting," Mel began and that did make Tabby look up and shoot her a dark look.

"It's not the Bambi painting. It's called Mother and Child," Tabby corrected her before shaking her head and going back to her task.

"Yeah, whatever. Did you know he's a hockey player?" Tabby's nose wrinkled as she hit send on the email and then turned back to her friend.

"Was I supposed to?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. She hadn't considered her friend to be any more knowledgeable in the area of sports than she herself was.

"So I was thinking about that commission you've been struggling with," Mel continued, stretching her words out as if she was talking to someone with diminished mental capacity while raising her eyebrows and staring at Tabby, waiting for her to catch on.

"Oh…oh!"Tabby practically jumped out of her chair. "Do you think he would? I mean…do you think he wouldn't mind?" she asked, practically shoving her friend out of her way in her eagerness to get out to the front of the gallery where the cute young couple was waiting.

"And here she is," Kevin smiled warmly and Tabby could hear Mel growling behind her. That girl definitely had a thing for married men.

"I just wanted to thank you again," Tabby began, holding her hand out to Katie first and then to Kevin who held it maybe a count too long, his sea blue gaze capturing hers'. "Mel found some great reclaimed wood from a house being taken down. It's a real natural dark wood," she added as Mel pulled the large canvas out from behind another set of cheaply framed prints. "I hope you like it," she added standing back while the young couple ooh'd and aah'd over the frame and Mel stood by beaming over her handiwork. Not that she could blame her, Tabby thought, as she too looked over the whole picture. The painting looked even more complete now. It almost made her feel badly for leaving the unframed print for Patrick's mother…_almost_.

She waited until Kevin was signing the credit card slip for the framing to ask.

"Mel was telling me that your husband plays hockey?" She directed the question to the wife to avoid any unseemly connotations to the request. Katie grinned and almost laughed.

"You could say that," she covered her mouth for a moment and then just let go in a fit of giggles that left Tabby standing there looking back and forth between Mel, who was shaking her head at her, and Kevin who was smiling in that way that said he knew something but wasn't about to share it. "I'm sorry," Katie hiccupped at last, reaching out to put her hands on Tabby's forearms. "I don't mean to be rude but…it's actually kind of nice not to have him recognized, but it is a bit unusual."

"Oh," Tabby stared back at the couple awkwardly as Kevin put his arm around his wife's shoulders and planted an affectionate kiss on the top of her head. "I'm sorry, I just don't watch sports," she tried to explain.

"Clearly," Kevin grinned with a not very veiled glance towards the prints. Tabby followed his eyes, waiting for him to say more, but when he didn't she looked back at him and continued her question.

"I just wondered…I mean, I hoped…I have this commission to do a cover of a novel with a hockey player and like I said, I really wouldn't know one end of a hockey stick from another and I would just appreciate if I could just do some sketches to work from…and I mean if you're busy I'd understand but…."

"He'd be happy to, wouldn't you babe?" Katie volunteered her husband before he had a chance to answer for himself. "In fact he has a practice tomorrow morning. Why don't I meet you down at the rink tomorrow, we'll get you inside and you can't sketch hot sweaty men to your heart's content."

* * *

"You're lucky it's just a case of pubic lice, _crabs_ I think you boys call them." Dr. Burke looked over his glasses at Sidney who was doing his best not to scratch while the doctor poked around in his family jewels. "From what you've been telling me, you're lucky you haven't caught something far worse," he added in that disappointed paternal tone, which, if he hadn't already felt like squirming, would have had that effect on him. "I know you boys get plenty of opportunities to sew your wild oats," the doctor continued as he fished around with a pair of long, sharp looking tweezers that made Sid wince just to look at them, "but I wish you would be a little more careful."

"I've been using protection," Sidney grumbled as the doctor peered at something between the tips of the tweezers before dunking it into a test tube filled with alcohol.

"Well, as you can see," Dr. Burke held up another one of those nasty little bugs that had had Sidney scratching himself in public, "that clearly isn't a hundred per cent effective in keeping all forms of sexually transmitted infections at bay. And, in case you didn't know, condoms are also not entirely effective in stopping pregnancies either," he added, freezing Sidney with another one of those patented looks over his glasses. "And I know that it wouldn't just be your father who would be very unhappy with you if you were leaving little Sidney Crosby's everywhere." Sidney shut his eyes and gripped the edge of the examination table to stop from scratching.

"Other guys…guys on the team have had this right?" he asked through his teeth.

"Mmmhmmm," the doctor replied noncommittally, and as Sidney looked down the length of his body he felt his stomach roll at the sight of the doctor staring intently at his junk. "I think we've got all the eggs and the cream should take care of the lice," he sighed, snapping his rubber gloves off and reaching for the cream, handing it to Sidney who immediately opened it and began to squeeze it all over his nether regions until the soothing cream made him let out a little sigh of relief. "I hope I don't have to tell you that you can't have any sexual relations, of any kind, with anyone, for at least two weeks," Dr. Burke added, leaning back against the sink wearing that disappointed look on his face again. "And I'd throw out anything you've worn in the last two weeks as well, and don't make me tell the equipment manager," he added which made Sidney shudder. He hated throwing out anything from his equipment. He'd had the same jock strap since he was twelve and the equipment manager had been begging to replace it for years. He'd definitely have his wish come true now. "And who is your roommate on the road?" the doctor asked, as Sidney reached for his boxer briefs, only to have the doctor pick them up with same tweezers he'd just been using on him and, as Sidney watched, the doctor carefully deposited them in the medical waste box.

"Dupers, Pascal Dupuis," he added as the doctor's brow wrinkled.

"Yes, well, you should let Mr. Dupuis know as I'm sure your towel has touched his and so on," Dr. Burke sighed, before turning to open the door to yell down the hall for someone to retrieve 'Mr. Crosby's shorts from the equipment room' before holding his hands out for his jeans.

"Really?" Sidney sighed, but handed them over and watched as the doctor got out a yellow medical waste disposal bag and tossed them inside, closing the bag tight and knotting the ties.

"All this…bed jumping…while understandable at your age, can lead to more serious consequences than this Mr. Crosby," Dr. Burke admonished him and Sid sat there feeling about a foot high and properly embarrassed. "I would suggest being a little more…prudent, with your choice of bed partners from now on." The shorts were passed through the door and Sidney slid into them and, with his head hung low, headed out into the hallway.

* * *

Tabby's stomach lurched towards her throat as Katie lead her through the equipment room where a pile of sweat soaked jerseys were being sorted through and then she covered her mouth and nose with her free hand as they went through the dressing room. The mixed aromas of body odor, sweat, mildew and the rankest of them all, foot fungus, filled her head and made her eyes well up as her body tried to defend itself from the general funk of hockey players. Katie didn't even seem to notice. _Must be an acquired taste_ Tabby told herself as she followed behind.

Some of the guys were already in the room, in various states of undress and the flexing biceps and rippling six packs reminded her of the last text message she'd received from Mel; '_I hate you'_. It was simple and to the point and now that she was getting an eyeful of the prime man meat in the room, she had the urge to pull out her phone and take a photo to send back to Mel.

Or maybe even Patrick, she thought. _Look at what I'm looking at_ or maybe _his ass is nicer than yours_, although, if she was honest with herself, though there were certainly some nice ones on display, none of them had that solid, meaty weight to them that his had had.

_I wonder what he does do to look as good as he does? _Tabby thought to herself as she followed Katie down a corridor that lead out to the ice where there was still a number of players passing a puck around. _See_, she said to herself_, you remembered some of what_ _you read_. She'd been online the night before, or at least on the Canucks website, and now she was fairly sure she could tell one end of a hockey stick from another.

"Hey, you're here," Kevin called out, sending a spray of ice towards them as he came to a stop in front of the bench. Katie leaned out for a kiss while Tabby got her sketch book and pencils out of her purse. "So, how do you need me?" he asked, striking a strong man pose with his arms bent in, which, Tabby could imagine, having seen him in street clothes, would have been fairly impressive if it hadn't been for the pads and the oversize jersey.

"I was thinking of something more relaxed?" she offered, tipping her head to one side and trying to decide what would look both cocky and sexy at the same time. "How about with the stick across your shoulders and your hands kind of dangling…that's it!" she grinned as he assumed the position she had just described, his head tilted a bit to one side with that smoldering 'I'm going to fuck you up' grin that she thought was probably his go to face against an opponent.

"Will I get a copy of this?" Katie asked, leaning on the boards and admiring her husband openly.

"You have it to look at all the time babes," Kevin grinned back at her and Tabby cemented her gaze to the white sheet now balanced on her knee. The two of them were so obviously in love it felt a little too private, a little too intimate to be around them.

"Yeah what about some real beefcake?" One of Kevin's teammates sent a shower of ice over the boards, which melted immediately onto the paper and erased the few lines that Tabby had put down. She growled and looked up, intending to let the guy have it, but found herself looking up into another pair of sky blue eyes and a freckled face with a big, goofy grin attached.

"You? Beefcake? Don't take your shirt of OB," Kevin laughed without losing his pose, "or she might see where you keep all those beers around your middle."

"Hey girls like a little something to hold on to, am I right?" the tall, young looking player looked to Tabby for affirmation but she just shook her head.

"I guess that sort of depends on the girl," she mused, turning the page over to start again.

"Yeah, you don't stand a chance with this one," Kevin snorted, "she's had a taste of filet mignon, she's no going back to flank steak Shane." Tabby opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that but by the time she opened her mouth, Kevin had dropped his gloves and the two men were play fighting and other players were skating over to jump in.

"They're just boys," Katie explained, grinning and laughing as she watched her man giving as good as he got and laughing all the while. "You gotta love them though, right?" Tabby nodded and thought about Patrick's friends Jordy and Max and Kris and couldn't help but smile and agree.

* * *

_A few weeks later…._

"You know there's been snow since the beginning of time. You'd think they would have figured out a faster way to de-ice a plane in the last fifty," Sidney grumbled as he and a group of his teammates stared out the window at the crew working under and on top of the plane, heating ice from the wings. Until they were done, they were stuck in the airport in Toronto with nothing to do.

"Somebody needs to get laid," Jordy noted aloud, making the rest of the team snort, or at least those who didn't try and hide their amusement behind their hands, knowing full well the sort of mood their captain had been in of late. The nasty infection he'd got from that woman in Philly had put enough of a scare into him that he hadn't been near a woman since, and they all knew it. Sidney didn't give in to the urge to turn around and stick his fist into the fall forward's face. There was no point.

He did need to get laid but bedding just any woman hadn't healed the wound inside of him, hadn't made him forget her. He still dreamed of her when he shut his eyes and when he took his own need in hand, it was still her name he called out.

"Let's go get a Playboy or something," TK muttered, pushing off from the glass and turning to head into the strip of shops nearby.

"You could have at least said Sport Illustrated or the Hockey News," Max muttered as he too turned to follow the speedy young winger.

"Why? Do you think I'm gonna wack off in the bathroom to a picture of _him_?" TK pointed at Sid who scowled back at him. The entire group broke up laughing but nearly everyone got to their feet and followed him across the waiting area.

Sid headed for the magazine rack. He did intend to buy a copy of SI, or something similar to read. Not that he was much for reading but it would help to pass the time; especially if they were going to be stuck in the airport much longer. He knew his temper had grown short and that he needed a distraction from the thoughts that kept playing through his head. Even now, as he stood in front of the magazine rack beside Dupes and Flower, perusing the sport section, his hand kept going to his phone. He'd palm it, think about calling her and then chicken out and take his hand out of his pocket.

At first, it had only been pride holding him back from calling her. Now it sheer cowardice. After all this time, she probably had some other lover, some man taking her out for candlelit dinners, making her laugh, kissing her ripe lips….

"Holy shit!" Everyone's head swiveled to where TK and Jordy were standing further down the aisle, holding up a paperback in each hand and laughing. Sidney shook his head, deciding that whatever it was considering the culprits, whatever they were up to, was bound to be juvenile and would do nothing to cure his irritated state. "Seriously Cap, I had no idea you were moonlighting as a male model," TK shouted down the aisle. With a sigh, Sidney replaced the copy of ESPN magazine to its place amongst the others on the rack and turned to join his teammates who were hooting and hollering like they were at the rippers, not in a small bookstore.

"Jesus Christ will you look at this?" Jordy was holding up a small paperback and laughing. Sidney eyed the cover and felt the tips of his ears eat up. He knew that picture. He hadn't seen it completed but he remembered posing for it, standing on the stairs in a hard hat, tool belt and jeans. That's when things had gone to shit. "_Stephanie has a boring nine to five job. The only time she gets to stretch her imagination is when she dreams about what the old house she's just bought is going t look like if she ever gets it finished and then Robert James comes into her life when she hires a handy-man and suddenly her imagination is out of control and so is her libido_," Jordan reads aloud to a chorus of wolf whistles and cat calls. Sidney reaches to snatch the paperback out of his friend's hand but Jordan dances out of range and shakes his head. "No way, I'm taking this on the plane," he laughs.

"What about this one?" Sidney turns to find Max holding up another paperback, this one with the first cover, him in the full knight in shining armor get up with the fainting girl in his arms, her black hair pooling on the ground, her breasts heaving free of her dress. Bodice rippers she'd called these books and it certainly looked like he'd been working on her dress…. "_Rougishly handsome Duke Olivier de Lacey has always lived life lustily, women, wine and song. Lady DeCouverley, stuck in a loveless, arranged marriage to an elderly, mostly bed ridden Lord finds excitement when she joins a dissident group of Protestants who work against the Queen and thwart her order of executions at every turn. When the debauched Duke is due to hang, only the lovely Lady DeCouverley can save him but can she save herself from his brooding charm_? Oooh brooding charm," Max laughed and began to open the book to read aloud Sid thought as he grabbed for the book only to have it passed over his head to Flower who then tossed it to Tanger.

Sid shook his head and turned to head back to the magazines. He'd known how she made a living and by saying nothing and certainly by posing for her, he'd given his tacit agreement to her using his likeness. He knew Pat, his agent, would be furious if he found out…hell, Bettman would stroke out, but he wasn't about to make a deal about it now and she hadn't chosen the stories her…what did she call them? Illustrations went on.

Still…Sidney turned and went to the shelf to look for one of the books. Maybe Harlequin would be able to provide her address. They had a game in Vancouver at the end of next month and maybe, just maybe, he could get a hold of her, take her to dinner, if she would just let him explain things….

"Bien, je suppose que nous n'avons pas d'imaginer qui elle est maintenant à coucher…." Sid didn't even let Kris finish before he had ripped the slim volume from his teammates grasp. He stared at the cover and there was no doubt whatsoever in his mind that it was her work. The style, the colours, it was all the same. So was the girl with the pencil skirt, glasses and clipboard who was staring, cow eyed at the casual looking, roguishly handsome defenseman for the Vancouver Canucks. She'd hardly even made any attempt at changing the jersey or logo. That was definitely Tabby and there was no mistaking the cocky sneer on Kevin Bieksa's face.

A red haze fell over Sidney's gaze and his hands clenched around the paperback and before he knew what he'd done, he'd ripped the book in two and only the cover and a couple of pages remained in his hand, the rest was on the floor and the entire store was silent. Sid looked around and saw every pair of eyes on him.

"Pay for this will you?" he growled at Max, pulling his credit card from his wallet and pressing it into his friend's hand, and then, with the cover still in his hand, he stormed out of the store.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18**

"But…do you know who I am?"

It was a last resort and one Sidney hated to use. Unless it was for charity, he hardly ever tossed his name and reputation into the ring but this was the third person he'd been passed on to and he could clearly hear in this woman's voice that he had hit the end of the road.

"All I can tell you, _sir_, is that while I do know of a Tabitha King, she is not an employee of Harlequin as such and even if she was, we have a strict policy against giving out personal information of any kind to anyone, no matter _who_ he might be," she added in that sort of tone that a librarian might use to shush rowdy kids during study hall. Sidney paced the hallway, trying to come up with yet another argument that might get this woman to give him just enough information to go on but he was coming up empty.

"Look, I just need to know where I can get a hold of her about…about a painting," he stammered, thinking of the one that had arrived on his mother's doorstep that she had thought he had bought for her. "I just wanted to get a payment to her," he added, hoping that his agent was right when he said everyone had a price.

"If you would like to send a payment, I'd be happy to accept that on her behalf," the woman said, her tone saying that she was just about out of patience for this game and Sidney knew the clock was ticking. It was like sitting in the sin bin, watching the seconds tick away, waiting for the official to open the door so he could hit the ice. Only this time he knew he'd be hitting a brick wall.

"Give me that."

Sidney felt his blackberry being pulled out of his hand and found himself staring at Max as he grinned into the phone with his best 'guest coming to dinner' fake smile.

"Hello Madame? I'm Pat Brisson, Sidney Crosby's agent and what my client has been pussy-footing around is the small matter of likeness being used on a number of covers of your product," Max held a single finger up towards Sid when he opened his mouth to protest. The last thing he wanted was Tabitha getting into trouble over that or getting Pat or the league involved. That would just turn into a colossal cluster fuck. "Yes Madame, I'm sure that you didn't realize or you would have been in touch with me before now….No, I can assure you we will not be looking for compensation, at this time," Max added with a wink as Sidney shook his head and gave him his best '_I am so going to fucking kill you'_ glare. "My client merely wishes to get in contact with the artist again about a painting that was unfinished when last they were in touch. It was for a…," Max tilted his head to one side and got that look on his face that made Sidney shake his head. "It was for a…charity auction and my client is most anxious that he be in receipt of the work on time….Yes, it was a sort of friendly exchange. You _could_ say that." Max could hardly contain himself, he had to cover his mouth to stop from laughing and Sidney raised a clench hand in warning. "Yes well, if you can have her call my client back at this number, it is most urgent that he hear from her…oui Madame, no thank _you_," he added with a flourish handing Sidney's phone back to him with a gleeful sort of grin. "Well if that doesn't do it, mon ami, then I don't know what to say," Max added triumphantly.

"If she gets into trouble," Sidney warned, his teeth grinding together as he stared his friend down.

"Mon capitaine, tu inquiétes beaucoup trop," Max grinned, reaching out to pat Sidney on the shoulder. "Do you want to see your beautiful artiste again?" he added, reaching up to cup Sidney's cheek before giving it a firm pat. "Then trust ton Oncle Max."

"I wouldn't trust ton Oncle Max as far as I could throw him, which, if he keeps chowing down on poutine before the games is not fucking far at all," Jordy tossed his two cents in as he walked by in nothing but a towel, reaching out to pat Max's stomach as he went by. Max let out a howl of protest and set out after the tall blonde forward, grabbing his towel and yanking it off but missing the forward himself.

Sidney watched them go and stared down at his phone and wondered if Max's ploy would work. He certainly hoped so. He had finally given in last night, sitting alone on his bed at Mario's, and he'd called her number, only to find that it was no longer in service.

Had she done it because of him? Or was she that in need of money?

He'd checked with Taylor and she'd confirmed with a drive by that the big house was still for sale. He knew Tabby had put a lot of her own money into the work they'd done on the house and he felt even guiltier about how everything had turned out.

Mostly he missed her, even more lately now that he was spending his nights alone, staring at the ceiling. She was on his mind all of the time, it seemed.

He stared at the phone and silently willed it to vibrate in his hand.

"Coming?" Coach Dan emerged from his office in his wind suit, whistle around his neck, stick in hand. Sidney nodded his head and turned to follow his coach out to the ice. Working out helped, and maybe if he worked hard enough he could forget the empty spot that he could feel deep in his chest; at least for a little while.

* * *

"Shit."

Tabby stared at the blue and white stick in her hand and felt tears welling up in her eyes.

"Shit," she said again as she reached for the box with her free hand and pulled out the instructions again. Not that she needed to read them again. Mel had forced her to buy the digital one that would read pregnant or not pregnant. She knew exactly what she was looking at and the only thing that would come out of her mouth was, "shit."

"How you doin' in there babes?" Trina, one of her friends from school had also stuck around, 'for moral support' and Tabby knew she should be glad to know that her friends were there for her, but with her panties around her ankles, her ass still hanging over the cold bowl and a damned stick in her hand telling her that her future was shot, it was a little difficult to conjure any kind of warm fuzzy feeling.

"You should have a read out by now," Mel knocked on the door and Tabby put the stick down gently on top of the box before struggling to pull up her panties, flush the toilet and pull down her skirt before she turned on the tap and ran the water until it got good and cold. She wasn't sure if it was an old wives tale, but she stuck her wrists under the cold water and then pressed them to her forehead and the sensation of vertigo seemed to subside, for now anyway.

"Babes?" Trina was at the door now too and she could see their concerned faces in her mind. They were the ones that had put two and two together before she did, the nausea, the sudden sensitivity to certain smells and the overwhelming need to eat doughnuts of every size, shape and colour. How she'd managed to overlook that she'd missed her period all this time and then there was the fact that her tits just plain hurt….

Tabby counted back on her fingertips. Not that she should really need to. She knew when the last time she'd had sex was. No one needed to remind her of that. What she couldn't remember was exactly when she started missing periods, what with the stress of moving and then setting up the show and deadlines for Illustrations and…

"Tabs! Seriously! Get your fucking ass out here and tell us what it says!" That was Trina, about as patient as a three year old outside a candy store.

"You know what it says," she mumbled, half to herself as she opened the door and pressed the stick into Mel's waiting hands. She didn't wait for her reaction. In fact, she purposefully walked away from her to give her friend time to school her features. She knew Mel would be grinning like the fucking Cheshire Cat behind her until she realized that Tabby wasn't skipping and clapping like a demented cheerleader.

Trina, on the other hand, had slumped into a chair, her long legs over the arm, fanning herself like she was the one finding out that she had a bun in the oven. Tabby stopped at the fridge and admired her friend's self possession. She couldn't afford that kind of emotional self indulgence. Well, not anymore anyway.

"What are you going to do?" Tabby turned to see Mel doing her damndest to keep her expression neutral, but she could see the glint in her dark eyes.

"Oh c'mon you both know damn well what I'm going to do," she sighed as she yanked the fridge door open and reached for the Nanaimo bars her mother had sent home with her the other night. The sugary, chocolaty pieces of heaven that she'd been avoiding as she'd told herself that she had to get back into her skinny jeans. Well there was no fucking chance of that now, she mused as she pulled the whole tray out and cut herself a piece about as big as five dollar bill and slid it onto a plate, licking her fingers as she turned back to face her friends who were both staring at her, waiting. "What? Oh c'mon. You know if it was either of you, or anyone we know, I'd be supportive either way; your body, your choice. But this is me and I'm just not flushing anything down the drain just because I was stupid," she sighed and then smiled down at the chocolate topped treat on her plate. She lifted the bar to her mouth and bit off a large piece, grinning around it as she chewed happily, rolling the ultra sweet, smooth filling around her tongue.

"So I'm gonna be an Aunty?" Mel gazed down at the stick and then up at Tabby like a kid expecting her favorite toy to be snatched away by the mean older sister. Tabby laughed and nodded, her mouth too full to answer out loud. Mel let out a little squeal and started bouncing up and down while Trina rolled her dark eyes and let out a dramatic sigh.

"Oh don't be like that Trins. You can be the Aunty that buys the kid its' first dimebag, helps it sneak out of the house, covers for it when it doesn't make it by curfew, teaches it how to make shit mix…," Tabby paused as the sugary sweetness in her mouth suddenly seemed to sour. "Oh Christ…I'm gonna be a momma."

"You'll be a great mom," Mel gushed, putting the stick aside and coming around the island to put her arms around Tabby and after a minute Tabby felt Trina join in the hug.

"Yeah, and if you suck, we'll be here to help, I guess," Trina added, her enthusiasm, or lack thereof, making Tabby smile. "But before you ask, I don't do diapers."

"I would never presume," Tabby sighed, reaching around to give Trina a squeeze, which left Mel as the cuddly filling in the sandwich.

"We'll buy a diaper Jeanie and a monitor and…."

"Whoa there sunshine," Tabby unwound both of her friends from her and went back to the fridge to look for some milk, to cut the sweetness of the bar. "I'm a single mom, and a fucking art student at that. I have a bad feeling we'll be washing out cloth diapers. Have you ever seen the price of pampers?"

"Oh well then you can definitely forget about me helping," Trina made a face like she was actually facing a dirty diaper, waving her hand in front of her face and gagging. "God, can't the guy you knocked you up help out a little? I mean, I assume there were two of you in on this decision not to use protection, genius."

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't exist," Tabby sighed as she poured the cold milk into a tall glass, "or at least the version of him he told me about," she added as she took the glass and the plate out into what worked as the living room in her tiny apartment, which was a bean bag chair, a worn black suede love seat that dipped in the middle, and a very old wingback chair, which she loved and settled into now. "Did I tell you that I called just about every marketing company that advertises that it does work with sports and not one of them had a Patrick Lemieux working for them? I mean…so if he lied about that, what else did he lie to me about?"

"You could call him," Mel pointed out, glancing quickly at Tabby's phone that was sitting out on the coffee table beside her purse. "You did say you had his number."

"Yeah, I could, if I hadn't shut it off last month," Tabby moaned, closing her eyes. "And before you say it, yes I know I could just turn it on and get his number and call from your phone but honestly…he lives, well I don't fucking know where the asshole lives but I don't need him. We don't need him," she added, her hand going protectively to her stomach and then all three of them looked at one another and there was not a single dry eye in the room.

* * *

"Mario…," Sid growled as his land lord and mentor gave him a little shove in the direction of the cute blonde that had sung the national anthem at the game. "It was Max that said she was cute," he argued but Mario's width and height stopped him from turning around and going back, and besides, now she was watching him expectantly. She was wearing too much make up and he could tell from this far away that she had extensions. Another fake Hollywood wannabe.

"Just be nice," Mario insisted, his big fingers digging into his shoulder as he 'guided' him in the direction he wanted him to go. "Nathalie and I are worried about the way you've been moping around lately," his mentor added, sounding just like most of the guys on the team. They didn't like him whoring around, they didn't like him staying home…what the hell did these people want?

"Sidney, this is Delta Goodrem," Shero gave Sidney that look that there was no other way to interpret. It was the kind of look he'd gotten used to when people wanted him to take their daughter or their niece out. It said, be nice, show here a good time, but be a gentleman. As if there was any other way he was going to be. He put his hand out and watched her place her small hand in his. She seemed fragile, tiny.

"Hi," he said and watched as she blushed and batted her eyelashes. Jesus, did girls really think that worked? It made him think of the first time he'd met Tabby and she'd turned him into the stammering, bumbling idiot.

"It's nice to meet you," she whispered it, like she could barely speak in his presence, but she reached out with her other hand and pawed at his arm while she looked up at him through her fake eyelashes. Did women come out of the womb knowing how to flirt like this? Fortunately he seemed immune to this kind of thing. Jordy, or Max on the other hand….

"So have you been to Pittsburgh before?" he asked, steering her away from the prying eyes of the owner and general manager. He'd talk to her for a while, be nice but there was no way in hell he could be interested in this…cookie cutter blonde.

He'd had Burgundy from the Loire Valley in France, he had a hard time imagining himself going back to the kind of wine that came in a box.

* * *

"More, really?" Katie scooped up Tabby's plate and, blushing like she'd just won Miss America, got up to get her seconds. Normally, and especially in front of Kevin's friends, Tabby would never even finish her food, not that Katie wasn't a good cook, it was just between laughing and talking, usually her food would get cold and they'd move into the living room and it would be forgotten. But then, that was before Tabby suddenly found just about everything not only edible, but fucking delicious.

"What about some wine?" Shane lifted the bottle again but Tabby shook her head and covered the glass with her hand.

"Nice try OB, stop trying to get my guest drunk," Kevin laughed, handing his own plate over his shoulder to his wife. Tabby's eyes followed the plates, hoping there was enough turkey tetrazzini for all of them.

"Well she wouldn't let me walk her home last time," Shane complained, grinning that boyish grin of his across the table at her and Tabby managed, just, to tear her attention away from Katie and the pot of food long enough to blow the big freckle faced defenseman a raspberry.

"You'd have to try Tequila and lots of it before I let you take me home O'Brien," she teased, narrowing her eyes at him and pursing her lips. He laughed, but then he seemed to laugh at almost everything. "I know where you've been and I don't want to catch where you've been," she added, making the entire table groan. Tabby winked at him, to let him know that she didn't really mean it, although she sort of did. Shane liked to party and when he partied he partied until the beer goggles were well and truly fused to his head and there were pictures on the internet to prove it.

"If you need a ride home," a voice whispered in her ear as the clunk of ice cubes falling into her glass made her turn her head. "I would be happy to oblige." Tabby glanced sideways at the very tall, very blonde young defenseman that everyone called Eddie and she let herself really smile for once. The Bieksa's had invited her to a few of these dinner parties now and she was fairly certain that this was one of the main reasons. They were trying to set her up with the young Swedish defenseman and she had to admit that the idea was growing on her. She opened her mouth to say so when Katie's arm slid between them and put the plate of carb loaded goodness in front of her and the need to speak sort of…dissipated with the steam and the scent of cream and cheese and turkey.

* * *

"Well this is you," Sidney said quietly as he pulled up in front of the Marriott. He thought he detected a pout on the thin lips of his 'date' but considering it hadn't even been his idea to take her out for desert, he thought it was very gentlemanly of him not to have just called her a cab.

"Do you want to come up for a…a nightcap? Or we could get something from the bar?" she asked, her eyes a little too wide, practically pleading with him to come inside and screw her brains out and Sidney found that it wasn't even remotely tempting.

"We leave for a road trip in the morning," he explained, wishing for her sake that Mario had pawned her off on Max, TK, Jordan, any of his single friends who would have gladly taken her up on her obvious offer and provided her with the kind of night she was obviously looking for. Once again, he knew, she'd be telling all of her friends that he was aloof, at best, rude and obnoxious at worst. Still, he found that he just didn't care. "I have to be up at five and I'm a real bear when I don't sleep." He thought it was a good reason and it wasn't far off, except that Flower would be picking him up in the Lambo nearer to ten than five.

"This is closer to the airport," she pointed out, which again was true but now she was really begging and that was just sad. Sidney thought about letting her suck on his dick for a while but then shook his head at his own selfishness. There was only one girl he wanted with her lips around his cock and he was still hoping that she would call, soon.

"It was very nice to meet you. Good luck with your singing," he added, trying his best to be diplomatic and nice at the same time. She stared daggers at him and then turned with a sort of huffing noise and pushed open the door to the SUV and stomped up the steps of the hotel. Sidney watched her go. It was the least he could do to make sure she made it inside safely. That, or he could call Jordan and let him know that the cute blonde was all alone…

Sidney laughed and reached over to pull the door of the SUV shut and headed for home, leaving his phone safely in his pocket, ready to receive a call at any time.

* * *

"Thanks for taking me home." Tabby sat in the passenger seat holding her purse on her lap like it was a security blanket, but she knew, if he made the move, she was about ready to toss it into the street, Guess or not. She glanced across the car and watched his long, elegant hands as he put the car into park. Her entire body tingled. 'It's just because you haven't been touched in months,' she told herself firmly. It wasn't that she was really all that attracted to him. Not that he wasn't good looking. He definitely had a sort of boyish charm that had something to do with his shy demeanor and his big blue eyes that were looking at her as his arm sort of casually stretched out along the back of her seat.

"I could pick you up, for breakfast," he began, his Swedish accent lending him a cute sort of lisp that made her want to lean towards him to make sure she was listening to him. Or at least that's what she told herself as she swayed in his direction. "Or I could just…come up, and we can go for breakfast…together." She wondered how he did it as his blue gaze searched hers' as he waited for her answer. He was basically saying let's fuck while remaining entirely innocent looking. His suggestion had nothing of the smoldering darkness that Patrick had had whenever he looked at her in that certain way that said '_I'm stripping your clothes off in my mind, right now'_.

She wanted it, or at least part of her did. The other part, the sane part, smiled and shook her head.

"Maybe another time," she promised, leaning forward to press her lips, very briefly against his before opening the door and heading into her apartment, alone.

**_ I know there are some pro and some anti Tabby being up the spout but I swear this is going to be fun, so hold on for the ride _


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 19

She woke up all at once with her heart hammering in her chest and a gasp emitting from her lips. Her back was arched and sweat trickled down her skin between her breasts. Her hands were curled into fists in the sheets and her entire body was trembling. Slowly, she opened her eyes and the true reality of the situation began to sink in. Patrick wasn't there with her. She was alone, in her bed in her tiny apartment and the orgasm that had awoken her had been produced entirely by her imagination.

"Fuckity fuck shit," she moaned as her body began to relax into that boneless state that afterglow usually left her in and she closed her eyes and tried to will herself back to that place, to the feel of the tiles in the shower against her back, the water from the shower beginning to cool as his body pressed hers'…no slammed hers' against the wall of the shower as his long, thick cock filled her completely and utterly and….

And it was gone. She could picture it, picture him, but the feeling, the belief that it had been reality, that she could feel him between her thighs, his hands holding her legs up and apart…it was all gone.

With a groan, Tabby rolled onto her side and brought the blanket with her. Would she, could she ever get over him? Her hand slid down and she placed it over her stomach. She couldn't feel anything yet, not from the outside, but there was a certain kind of heaviness that she'd been labeling water retention for weeks now. Now that she knew what it really was, she curled herself around and squeezed her eyes shut. She pictured the little tadpole like creature inside of her and felt a smile grow on her lips.

"I'm sorry little guy." Despite Trina's protests, she'd felt sure, almost from the moment that the test had confirmed her worst fears, that it was a boy. "I'm sorry you won't have a father," she whispered, stroking her stomach with the flat of her hand as she apologized. "And I'm sorry I'm so fucking horny," she added biting down on her bottom lip as she did. "Oops, gonna have to learn not to swear so fucking much too," she giggled.

It was a strange feeling, she'd decided as she'd tried to explain it to Mel over lunch that day. She felt like she'd been carbonated, like her stomach was full of tiny bubbles. That was the best she could do, other than to say she felt a bit like she'd swallowed an entire baked potato whole. She had her first scan in the morning and maybe, she hoped, it would all feel a little more real then.

* * *

"Okay that was one tasty little chickita banana," Jordan stared after the third girl that Sid had turned away, his mouth literally agape as he watched her booty sway in a pair of painted on jeans. "I know you got a little unlucky once Creature, but you can't let that turn you off all women," the tall forward continued, his gaze still glued on the formidable junk in the girl's trunk. For himself, Sid's gaze was back on the ice in the bottom of his drink.

"Give it up Jordo," Max sighed, draping his arms around his teammates' shoulders, or at least over Sidney's and somewhat near Jordan's. "He's still mooning over his summer romance." Sidney narrowed his eyes at his friend but there was little point in arguing the point. Besides the fact that it was true, arguing with Max rarely had any benefits.

"Really?" Jordan turned and stared at Sid, his sky blue eyes filled with the sort of wonder of a five year old who had just figured out that Santa doesn't really exist. He looked sort of confused and sad all at the same time. It almost made Sidney smile; almost. "Really?" the big forward repeated again, and this time there was just the hint of a challenge in his voice. Sid could merely shrug. Again, there was little point in arguing. For Jordan it was always a case of out of sight out of mind. That was a way of thinking that Sidney wished that he could cultivate, but in this case, he'd tried and he'd failed, miserably. "What is it about this chick?" Out of the corner of his eye, Sid thought he saw his roommate, Dupes, giving the sign not to go there, but it was too late and having told Duper hadn't seemed to get it off of his chest.

"She's like no one I've ever been with," he began to which Max muttered something about her 'not only seeing him as a walking wallet stuffed with hundreds'. He glared at his fuzzy faced friend and then continued. "I felt…simple, free with her. I felt more like myself, not 'Sid the Kid'," he made bunny ears around the nickname he most hated in the entire world and then shrugged. "When I was with her I felt the most real I've felt in…well, let's just say I haven't felt like that in a long time."

"The thing I've been trying to explain to notre ami," Pascal interjected, "is that it was pretty easy to feel like someone else when he was being someone else and he was pretty fortunate to be in his own community where people know him well enough to give him some space and let him play make believe." Sidney had heard the argument and he understood its merits but on the other hand….

"When have I ever had the opportunity for a girl to just get to know me? Not," he raised his hands to make the bunny ears again when Max snorted and shook his head.

"But she didn't, did she mon ami? She knows Patrick, not Sidney. She doesn't know about you and hockey et sans savoir de tu et d'hockey, elle ne tu connaît pas du tout, d'accord?" Max tilted his head and gave him one of those looks that said he knew so much more about the world of women than Sid was ever likely to and it made him squirm. "Even if you found her, and I am assuming from your mood that she has still not called, oui?" Sid sighed but nodded. There was little point in lying about it if it was that obvious. "Well, even if you do, and then, say you bring her to the 'Burgh…then what? As tu pensé à ce sujet?"

The fact was that he had, over and over again. He'd gone over the idea in his head so many times that it nearly felt real to him. As soon as he explained who he was, she would understand the rest and she'd forgive him. Or at least that's the way it went in his imagination.

"It doesn't matter. She's not going to call," he said aloud, though in his heart he refused to believe it. They'd had something. They'd shared something real. He had to find her.

"Then why give up on that grade a piece of ass?" Jordan asked, his face contorted in a way that said it hurt him to watch the girl disappear into the crowd. Sidney could merely shrug in response. They didn't understand. None of them did and he didn't know how else to explain it. He was going to find her and it was going to be fine. Happily ever after in fact, but if someone asked him to tell them how he knew all he'd be able to say is that he did and for these guys…that would never be enough.

* * *

"If you'd just like to jump up on the table and scoot down to the end," the technician smiled and turned on the machine next to the examination table. Tabby eyed it suspiciously as she lay down and opened her jeans, pushing them down over her hips. "This might be a bit cold," the young woman added as she squeezed some kind of cold gel over her abdomen and Tabby winced. "I did warn you," she added with another warm smile. Did this kind of woman go into Obstetrics because they were nice or did nice girls just end up here, Tabby wondered as she tried her best to relax, even though every muscle, every fiber in her body seemed to be strained to the breaking point and when her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, she almost fell off of the table.

"Sorry," she apologized, digging her phone out of her pants pocket and staring down at the display. "Damn," she hissed.

"If it's important," the technician eyed her with that jaded look as if to say '_damn girls and their phones'_.

"No, it's just my agent," Tabby explained, shutting her phone off. Between her art editor and the useless real estate agent who still hadn't been able to sell the house, she was beginning to wonder why she'd let Mel talk her into buying another phone. "So, you'll be able to tell how far gone I am?" Tabby asked, her gaze already glued to the static laced screen.

"Mmmhm," the technician replied noncommittally as she placed the magic wand in the cold gel and began to move it in small, slow circles. Tabby wanted to ask 'is that it? Is that it?' every time she thought she could see something solid on the screen. She was now wishing very much that she had taken up Mel on her offer to accompany her but instead she took a deep breath and tried, again, to relax. She watched the tech readjust the knobs and dials and did her best to stay calm and not interrupt or act like one of those super excited moms to be. "See this," the technician said at long last, hitting some button that made the image on the screen freeze before she pointed to what, at first, looked a hell of a lot like a peanut. Tabby peered at the black and white image and then at the technician helplessly. "Wait," the tech made the image bigger, or clearer, but suddenly there it was, a perfectly formed little alien with tiny feet and hands and a giant head.

"Oh my god," Tabby breathed, seeing the little being staring back at her. It took her a moment to realize that there was not only an image but a sound as well. "Is that…is that _my_ heartbeat?" she asked.

"No, that's the fetus," the woman replied without looking away from what she was doing. Tabby continued to stare at the image on the screen, her mouth agape. She wanted to fold her hands over her stomach. She wanted to cry. "I didn't expect it to be…_anything_…I mean not _yet_."

"Looks about ten to eleven weeks," the woman replied, moving the little wand once again to change the picture. Tabby stared at the image, watched him tumble and stretch and felt her breath catch in her throat. "The magic number," the technician added, tilting her head to one side and regarding Tabby with a raised eyebrow.

"What's that?" Tabby asked, her gaze still riveted to the image on the screen.

"Well," the woman stopped moving the wand and reached for a cloth to clean the gel from Tabby's stomach. "It's the point that most surgeons will put on the decision timetable for termination." Tabby blinked and then turned to stare at the woman in her clinically white lab coat.

"Because I'm here alone?" Tabby asked quietly, reaching down to do up her jeans. "That's why you're saying that, right?" The woman continued to clean her instruments and put them away but she shrugged and nodded.

"I'm not suggesting anything," the woman replied, setting the printer humming and, after a moment, she turned to hand a small black and white print out to Tabby, who held it in both of her hands and stared down at it. "You're young. It's not as easy and fun as you might think," she added. Tabby slid off of the examination table and headed for the door.

"I'm under no illusions," Tabby replied quietly as she pushed the door open, "at least I don't think I am." Her hands shook as she said it and she wasn't sure she believed it, but what she did know beyond anything else was that she was madly, deeply and irrevocably in love with the little being in the grainy photo in her hands.

* * *

Sid sat alone in the dark of his room, staring out at the leaves on the ground and wondered where in the world Tabby was right now and what she was doing. It was hard for him to believe that months had passed since they'd fought and parted because the pain of that separation still felt raw to him. His heart felt bruised and he still felt confused and lost when he thought of her and yet he couldn't stop doing it.

Right now he was supposed to be napping. He had a game in a few hours and this was the time he should be conserving energy, emptying his mind, not punishing himself and filling his head with thoughts over which he had no control. His hand balled into a fist and he slammed it against the wall, wincing as the meat of his hand split against the solid wood wall. He shook his hand and grimaced as he turned to lie on his back, to stare up at the blank ceiling.

She hadn't called. She probably wasn't going to call and he probably wasn't ever going to see her again, which meant he really should do what it seemed like all of his teammates were suggesting…forget her and move on with his life. With his hands behind his head, Sid let his gaze go unfocussed and tried to will her out of his mind except as soon as he did that, she was there, with that long mane of ebony hair, the colour of a raven's wing, fanning across his pillow, with her cute little nose all wrinkled up as she giggled.

He closed his eyes and the specter of her took on a more solid form. He could smell paint thinner and lavender soap. He could feel her hair shrouding him like a waterfall. He could feel her ivory skin under his fingertips as she straddled him, her strong thighs alongside his, her full breasts teasingly close to his mouth.

Sidney moaned as he felt her body press down over his. She liked to tease him, stroking her warm, wet pussy over his aching cock until he couldn't stand it anymore. She would giggle as her lithe fingertips traced the lines of his chest, making patterns that only her vivid imagination could see. He would reach for her, wanting to tease her back, but she would shake her head and sit up, holding her breasts just out of his reach and then….

Sidney wriggled out of his shorts and took his now throbbing cock in his hand as he watched her bite down and drag her bottom lip into her mouth as she teased her own nipples, rolling the hard, pink buds between her fingers as she looked down at him, knowing the sweet torture it was only to be able to watch. But there was one thing he could do and her head tilted back until all that black hair fell down her back and tickled his thighs. He stroked her clit, his hand between his pelvis and hers' as she pushed down and rocked against him. With a little 'come hither' motion of his fingers he could make her cry out, her eyes squeezing shut, her body giving into a shudder that would end the teasing.

She would look down at him then, her dark eyes alight with a fire, her full lips parted in a smile and they would come together, her body raising just enough to slide down over him, and she was so hot and wet and tight….

Sidney's cock jerked in his hand as his balls pulled in tight to his body and a stream of jism arced into the air and up his stomach. He heard himself call out her name as his entire body went taught and bowed as the orgasm held him in its grip.

_How could he forget her_? He asked himself as he reached for a tissue beside his bed and did his best to clean up the mess her memory left him with. He'd just have to find some other way of finding her, even if it took hiring a private detective he'd do it, he vowed silently as he wiped the last of the sticky white substance from his stomach, because there was no forgetting her.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 20

"Don't you think you should tell the poor bastard that he's gonna have a kid?"

Leave it to her younger brother to put it that way, Tabby thought as she narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose up at him across the table. Had they been ten years younger, she would have flipped the spoonful of potatoes she was about to put on her plate directly into his face, but instead she put the spoonful of potatoes down on her plate and gave him the stink eye.

"Why should she?" Trina rose to her defense, like a good friend should and Tabby gave her a grateful smile. "The guy lied like a fucking rug about who he is…was…whatever."

"Because, if I dropped some illegitimate bastard poop maker, I guess I'd want to know," Darrel continued and that made everyone around the table laugh.

"No you would _not_," Tabby insisted, putting up her hand defensively in front of her mouth in case she spewed corn at him while she laughed. "If some poor girl came to this door right now with a bundle of joy with brown hair and brown eyes that looked just like you you'd tell her to fuck off." Her brother was proud of his man whoring ways and what Tabby was finding surprising was that his first reaction to her news over Thanksgiving dinner was not to want to track the guy down and put his fist in his mouth.

"Yeah well," her brother's face turned pink and he laughed uncomfortably, causing Tabby to stare across the table at her mother with the question clear in her eyes. Had that already happened?

"Darrel's bark is a lot bigger than his bite," her father answered, handing the bowl of cranberry sauce towards his errant son with a look of pride on his face. Why was it, Tabby wondered, that men thought it was okay to act like a horny alley cat as long as you had a penis attached to you?

"All I'm sayin' is the dude has a right to know," Darrel reiterated, earning him a dirty look from Trina which made him smile his evil little brother smile.

"And if he lied to me about something as simple as who he is, what he does…that's who you think should be in your nephew's life? Guiding him? Being his example?" Tabby asked, leveling her gaze at him across the table. The turkey leg he had been lifting to his mouth stayed half way there as he found himself caught in the web that Tabby had woven. It was one thing, all this bro's before ho's bullshit, but it was quite another thing to protect your own.

"Nice," Trina held her hand up for a high five but Tabby didn't reciprocate. This wasn't about winning or losing. She'd been staring at his number all day on her new phone, the one she couldn't really afford, and she couldn't make a decision. Did he deserve to know, even if he hadn't bothered to chase after her, if when he'd said he'd loved her, his words had obviously been hollow? She was struggling with the decision and in telling her family, she hoped that they would tell her what the right thing to do was.

"He should at least have to pay something towards the sprog's care," her father finally replied, chewing thoughtfully on his brussel-sprouts and giving her that look that said she knew she needed it and this was not the time for pride to override good sense. Of course she knew it and he had seemed to have some money behind him, considering what he was driving and the clothes he wore, and she didn't really want to be bringing up a child in a damp, drafty, cramped apartment. And yet….

"But then he gets some rights to the kid," Trina pointed out as she had been doing with Tabby since they had found out about the pregnancy. "Then he can take the kid who knows where and, if he does have money, he could even sue for custody and she'd lose." Tabby nearly choked on her steamed carrots and Trina reached over to curl her hand around her friend's. "Sorry babe, but it's true. The biological mother doesn't win all the time anymore."

"If he's the kind of jerk who lies about his name and shit, he's not gonna want anything to do with the kid," Darrel gave his sister one of those '_all for one and one for all'_ looks across the table and Tabby managed a weak smile in return. "Fuck him. You don't need him. We'll make sure the kid doesn't go without," he added, puffing up his chest, just like he had when he was five years old and some of the bigger kids had been picking on her about her braces. He'd stood his ground in front of her and made it known he'd take on anyone who picked on his big sister. He could be a jerk sometimes but Tabby loved him with all her heart.

"He's right, for once," Tabby's mother leaned over and patted her daughter's hand. "And I'll make a call to Uncle Dave, see if we can't get something done about that house," she added to which Tabby bristled.

"I was thinking…I mean I know that it would be crazy to be away from all of you, but I own it and…maybe I should move back there." Every set of eyes stared at her and she shrugged. "It's just a thought."

"We'll get the house sold," her mother reiterated, "and then you won't have to worry so much over money." The pat that she gave Tabby's hand then made it seem like it was over, there was nothing more to talk about. That was that and suddenly she felt like things were going to be taken out of her hands and the idea of moving back to that rickety old house with its' creaks and groans and leaking roof didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.

* * *

"Yes, I had thought of that." Sidney rubbed at the bridge of his nose, which, along with just about everything else in his head, was beginning to throb. He was beginning to question the references of the private detective that he was sitting across from. He was still having a hard time imagining this guy getting information on hockey players and their agents that Shero could use to entice them to the steel town. "The estate agent referred me to her Uncle, who, I'm pretty sure, was the one who talked her into selling up and leaving in the first place," he added, grimacing at the short, very impersonal discussion he'd had with dear old Uncle Dave who had been even less helpful than the ladies at Harlequin. "And she doesn't twitter or facebook or myspace or any of that stuff…at least as far as I can tell," Sidney added with a sigh.

"And you've checked her friend's networks?" the man asked, noting something in the little black book he carries with him.

"No…I mean…I never got to meet any of her friends and she didn't really talk enough about them for me to know where to start," Sidney admits, that heavy feeling in his stomach beginning to make him feel like maybe this was a really bad idea.

"It's not a lot to go on," the dick admits, tapping his pen on the paper in front of him before looking across the desk to where Sid feels like squirming. The guy knows who he is and he's already handed a wad of cash over to him; five hundred a day, plus expenses. It's kind of like a guy having you by the jockstrap, it's uncomfortable and embarrassing and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it without making it worse. "You have thought that maybe she doesn't want you to find her?" the man asks in that slow, straightforward tone that says a lot about what he thinks of Sid's lack of game. Sid nods, dropping his gaze because it's hard to have another grown man looking at you like it's almost funny for a young guy with all the money in the world not to be able to get the woman he wants, like the guy's enjoying that idea just a little too much. "There are stalker laws…," the guy begins and Sidney finds his fingers itching to grab the folded bills back, stuff them in his wallet and leave.

"Look…I…I fucked up with her okay? I just want the chance to…," to fuck her again, to have her in his bed and make her scream his name, "to apologize, if nothing else." There, he's said it and the guy gives a slow, deliberate nod as if to say that he can understand that. It's the best play that he can make. Everyone thinks of him as that good, polite kid and he knows damn well that everyone will buy a story like that. That he just wants to make amends and sure that's a part of it, but only a part.

"And you're sure she's in Vancouver?" the guy makes another note in his book while Sid nods and then the guy snaps his little book shut. "Okay, well, I'll make some inquiries but I can't promise anything. I'll be in touch with you as soon as I know anything." The man pushes his chair back with a loud scraping sound and Sid takes that as a signal to do the same. He stretches his hand out and Sid finds himself looking into a pair of grey eyes and he can't help but notice the lack of sincerity in them.

_This was a bad idea_, he tells himself again as he shakes the man's hand. _It might be a bad idea_, the devil on his other shoulder tells him, _but what other plays have you got to make hot shot?_ The game in Vancouver is in three weeks and he knows that will be his best shot and he'll only have a few hours to try and convince her that he's not really the biggest asshole in the world.

"I know finding her isn't a guarantee she'll see me," he says quietly, his hand on the doorknob, "but I have to find her, please." He looks back at the detective who is already moving to go back to his computer. Somewhere in his mind Sid knows that finding her on the world wide web is probably the fastest, easiest way but he can't help wishing that the guy would pull out a fedora and go charging out into the street to do it the old fashioned way.

"I'll do my best," the man with the cool grey stare nods in a dismissive way and Sid slunk back out the door he'd come in and down the dimly lit hall and he couldn't help feeling as pathetic as Max had told him it was to do this. But then Max hadn't held her in _his_ arms, hadn't heard her call out _his_ name.

Would she be flattered, or horrified that he would go to these kinds of lengths to see her again? Either way it was done now, and couldn't be undone. It was kind of like shaking your gloves off in front of someone you know can and probably will kick your ass. You know it's going to hurt but sometimes you just have to do it, he told himself as he made his way back out onto the street where Max and Kris were waiting and he deliberately didn't meet their curious gazes. They could mock him all they wanted, but when he had her back, he'd be the one laughing.

* * *

"Stop dragging your feet momma," Trina reached back to grab a hold of Tabby's wrist as they trudged towards the front doors of the big box electronics store.

"I don't want you buying things for me," Tabby moaned, eyeing a sizeable puddle near the door and wondering again what the weather would be like back in Nova Scotia. Much the same, or so her Uncle had told her, when she'd phoned to casually inquire about the house the other night.

"So pay me back when you sell another piece," her friend insisted, giving her a shove through the doors and past the new dvd releases. Tabby gazed longingly at the stack of movies she couldn't afford and then obligingly followed her taller, leaner friend down the aisle towards the back of the store where they kept the more expensive, high ticket items.

Like fourty-seven inch high def LCD TV's. Tabby sighed as Trina paused to get her bearings, and stared at all of the thin flat screens that were so much better than the twenty inch tube set she had at home that now looked positively ancient in comparison. Tabby stood in the middle of the store, surrounded by what seemed like a hundred different sizes of television sets and stared.

"Does anyone have a remote? Can someone turn up the sound?" she asked, turning and looking at one of the bigger screens, her fingers itching to reach out and run her fingers over the planes of his face, to wipe away the droplets of sweat from his upper lip, to trace the line of a new scar that bisected the bridge of his nose.

"Tabs, we're here to get a microwave so that you can heat up baby bottles, not look at shit you so cannot afford with another mouth to feed on the way," Trina reminded her, tugging at her arm, trying to lead her away but Tabby felt as if her feet were cemented to the spot. No, worse than that, that she was stuck in quick sand and sinking fast.

"That's him," she whispered, her voice almost a sigh as she stared at him in full HD. Spots and all, he was just as beautiful as she remembered.

"That's who?" Trina asked, having given up on tearing Tabby away from the spot she was obviously unwilling to leave. "That's Sidney Crosby," she added, answering her own question. "Yeah, I guess he's cute. I'm more into the dirty Frenchmen on the team and…," Trina's voice dropped off as she turned and stared intently at her friend. "He's…Tabitha King, are you telling me that _that_," she pointed at his likeness on the screen just as he smiled widely, making Tabby's knees go weak, "_that_ is your baby daddy?" Trina added, pitching her voice even lower than a whisper. Tabby nodded without tearing her gaze away from the screen. "Wait, are you actually trying to tell me that the guy you haven't been able to stop talking about…the guy that you had sex with all summer…is Sidney fucking Crosby?"

"I guess…no…I mean he said his name was Patrick," Tabby finally turned to her friend, her face a mask of confusion. "Who is this…who is Sidney Crosby?"

"Oh my god…have you been living in a barn or something?" Trina stared at her, disbelief written clearly all over her face. When Tabby continued to stare blankly back at her Trina finally relented and rolled her eyes. "Oh c'mon, the Olympics were even _here_ for crying out loud. He's like the golden boy for the entire country! What were you like the only person in the entire city not watching the Gold Medal hockey game?"

"Damon and I went to Cuba during the Olympics…you know I don't watch sports," Tabby complained, turning back to watch him run a towel over his dark, curly hair. "So his name is…Sidney?" she tried the name out, letting it roll over her tongue. She'd always like the name Patrick and it certainly sounded stronger, more masculine, than Sidney, and yet, she thought, maybe it suited him. "So he plays hockey…here?" she asked, thinking of the arena down at the end of the Georgia Viaduct and wondering how she could have missed seeing him at the couple of practices she'd been at.

"No…no he plays for Pittsburgh," Trina shook her head impatiently at her friend and pointed at the logo on the front of his black and gold jersey. Tabby nodded silently, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

"I mean…I knew he lied to me…I mean, when I tried to track him down through Gatorade and they were like 'we don't have a Patrick that works for us in Halifax but…," she fell silent as the Trina finally got a hold of the remote and turned up the sound. The small hairs on her arms stood on end as she heard his voice, that almost boyish, half hoarse, half adolescent hormone driven cracking voice of his.

"Well…the stuff he told you was half true," Trina began her gaze also on the large screen in front of them. Tabby glanced at her, her eyes narrowed and Trina didn't even have to look over to know that she was waiting for an explanation. "Well, Sidney _Patrick_ Crosby, for one," Trina began, counting off on her fingers, "and he _is_ a spokesperson for Gatorade and RBK, so that's two," she continued, springing another finger from her fist. "And he _is_ from Cole Harbor, born and bred, he just lives in Pittsburgh during the hockey season," she added, sticking her thumb out to make three. "So…yeah he lied but he wasn't far off." Tabby blinked at her friend's fingers and then turned back to stare at the screen. He was laughing which made that scar on his cheek look almost like a dimple and his caramel coloured eyes to narrow and it made her guts hurt. Her hands automatically spread protectively over her stomach and she suddenly felt very light headed. "They're playing here in a couple weeks," Trina added quietly, moving in behind Tabby, ready to catch her if she fainted.

"Here?" Tabby repeated weakly as Trina nodded. "Here," she repeated to herself, wondering at the way her stomach lurched at the idea. Was that excitement or fear? Did it mean she had to tell him?

The interview was over and, running a towel over his dark, wavy hair, he had turned around and Tabby watched him walk down the corridor in his black and gold uniform, teetering comfortably on his skates. She felt an ache in chest. Her mouth was dry.

She reached for her phone and searched for a number before hitting the start button. She waited, holding her breath until she heard the voice on the other end of the line.

"Katie…, it's Tabitha. I have a huge favor to ask."


	22. Chapter 22

_& now the moment you've been anxiously waiting for..._

Chapter 21

"My life is over." Tabby stares down at the pocket of extra fabric at the front of the jeans she's trying on and feels tears fill her eyes.

"Well what did you think? You could wear your skinny jeans forever?" Katie muses as she looks up from the magazine she's reading. For her part, Mel at least covers her mouth to try and hide her giggle.

"Do you know what I was wearing when I first met him?" Tabby sniffs, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, wishing she'd chosen waterproof mascara that morning. "Daisy Dukes. Do you have any idea what I'd look like in those right now?"

"You're not really showing," Mel gets up and tuggs down the loose, slightly flowing tunic top, "and if you have the top down no one knows, see?"

"This _screams_ maternity," Tabby moans, picking at the hem of the long top.

"Well what you have to ask yourself," Katie reminds her quietly, "is whether you're going there to tell him that he's going to be a daddy or if you're going there to jump his bones." A kind of hush falls over the little group as Tabby stares disconcertedly at her reflection.

"I don't know," is her honest reply as she turns sideways and smooths the top down over the now more than barely discernable bump.

"She doesn't have to tell him," Trina mumbles from behind the 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' Book Mel had picked up for Tabby. She's been making faces and uncomfortable noises ever since she opened it.

"He has a right to know," Mel interjects. Tabby sighs. This is the very reason that she hasn't been able to come to a decision. Her friends are split and every time she thinks about it her stomach rebels and she ends up lying down until the nausea passes.

"He might not want to even see me, let alone talk to me," Tabby says calmly, reaching for the empire waist dress that she'd first tried on. She takes it and herself back into the changing room. Slipping the top she's tried on off, she stands in front of the mirror and turns sideways. It had seemed to happen overnight, the expansion of her stomach to where it now looks very much like she's swallowed a football. It isn't that she's regretting her decision, exactly. It's more like she can't quite picture herself facing him looking and feeling like this. The problem is, whenever she thinks about him, she thinks about them together and in her current condition she can't make that picture come clear.

"I never really believed that shit about pregnant women glowing." Tabby turns to find her friend Trina leaning in the doorway of the change room, "but damn girl, you've got that whole maternal goddess thing going on right now."

"You don't have to try and make me feel better," Tabby mumbles, quickly stepping out of the 'mom jeans' as she had been calling them and grabbing the dress, she pulls it over her head.

"Hey, would I bullshit you?" Trina grabs the ties on the back of the dress and makes a careful bow. "I mean it. If I was a guy, hell if I even swung a little that way, I'd totally do you." She tugs the bow to be sure it stays tight and then slides her hands around Tabby's waist and over her little bump. "And if he did love you, even a little, then I'm telling you girl, he'll see you like this and he won't be able to keep his hands off of you." Tabby's eyes well up and she shakes her head.

"I'll be lucky if I don't throw up on him," she sighs, turning first one way and then the other in the dress. It 's a definite improvement on the 'mom jeans' and it doesn't exactly scream 'maternity' but it's far from shouting 'sexy'. Maybe it's a good balance or maybe she's just tired of thinking.

"You're supposed to be past that, in the second trimester," Trina leans her chin onto Tabby's shoulder. "And if he doesn't want you, then that's his loss. You'll just have to get Bieksa to start a rumor that he's a raging fag," she adds with a grin.

* * *

"Whatcha doin'?" Kris pokes Sidney's skate with the blade of his stick. Sid drags his attention from the empty arena and turns it towards his friend and teammate.

"What's that?" he asks, narrowing his eyes in consternation. He hates having his pre-game rituals fucked with.

"Qui es-tu recherché?" Kris asks, looking around at all the empty seats. There are, as there always seem to be in every city they visit, a few reporters, a few company reps from Tim Hortons and other sponsors and a spattering of lucky kids. None of them, however, appear to be what Sid is looking at, or is that for?

"I was just wondering…imagining I guess if she came tonight…."

Tanger raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head, making his hair fall into his eyes. "You don't think she'll actually come to a game do you? I mean, if she actually figured out who you really are, do you think she'd just come running to a game after all the lies you fed her?"

"Who are you girls yakking about?" Jordy joins them at the boards, and he too scans the nearly empty arena. "Fuck, I thought there might be some hot chick we were checking out. I shoulda known better."

"Sid's hoping Tabby shows," Max interjects, not even having to be told. "Personnellement, je pense que tu rêves." Sid opens his mouth to tell his teammates exactly where they can and should shove it and just exactly how hard, when Kris lets out a long, low whistle and for once, his teammates fall silent.

He feels it like a tickle at the back of his neck and it only takes a brief scan of his friends' faces to tell him that what he's feeling is real.

She's here.

He turns slowly until he's facing the benches and he forgets to breathe when he sees her standing there at the gate, her gaze searching, waiting for his. It takes him another moment to realize that the Canucks defenseman is standing guard behind her, with a few other obviously interested on lookers peering out from the corridor that leads to their dressing room.

Part of him wants to dig his skates into the fresh ice, toss his stick and gloves down and fly across it to her but the other part of his brain is screaming '_caution'_ at the top of its' lungs. '_You haven't spoken to her in months_', he reminds himself, '_and Bieksa looks a whole lot like he's itching to send you head first through the boards, which can't bode well'_ he adds silently as he puts his head down and glides slowly towards her.

The problem is he can already taste her lips, he can already feel the long, dark silky strands of her hair sliding through his fingers. He's not even to centre ice and he's sure he can smell the clean lavender soap scent of her skin. His heart is pumping hard, like he's been doing wind sprints and the truth is he's hardly made two laps of the ice, hasn't even broken a sweat and yet he can feel the cold clammy trickle of sweat dripping down from beneath his helmet. This is what she does to him. She unnerves him, unmans him, and that should matter, but somehow it doesn't. He knows as approaches the boards that he'd let the Canucks defenseman put him through the boards, let the zamboni drive over him, if it means that somehow, some way, this won't end badly.

* * *

"I'm going to be sick."

Tabby reaches out to press the flat of her hand to the cool concrete wall and leans over, shutting her eyes against the wave of nausea that engulfs her as they near the end of the corridor. She'd like to believe that it's the funk coming from the dressing room but she knows it's not. She can smell the ice and she can hear the sound of skates gliding through the frozen playing surface, pucks ricocheting off the boards and the glass and that means that he is only steps away.

"You don't have to do this," Kevin's hands settle comfortingly on her shoulders and she feels his thick fingers digging into her shoulder blades. "Someone else can tell him, preferably while I have him in a headlock," he adds with a mocking tone that's half joking and half not. He'd do it, no questions asked. All she hads to do is nod her head. They've gotten to be good friends, he and his wife, even in this short time. He's protective. It's his paternal instincts.

"No," she straightens and waits for the momentary dizziness of her sudden movement to pass. "I have to do this." Taking a deep breath, she asks her legs to go forward even though they feel like they're going to give way beneath her. She wishes she could hold Kevin's hand, as if she were a little girl. It would be comforting but 'lily livered' as her grandfather would say.

Stepping out into the box the cold air makes her draw in a ragged breath, or maybe it's the black practice uniforms of the skaters out on the ice that says they are different, other. They are not the blue and green and white practice uniforms of the Canucks. That's not to say she was used to Kevin's uniform, it just meant that _he_ was out there.

She can feel him, like the tug on the other end of a fishing line. She knows, even beneath the bulky uniform, the helmet and pads, she knows it's him the moment her gaze settles on his back. She doesn't need to see the small '87' on the back of his helmet.

She grips the top of the half boards, feeling the meeting of wood and plastic under her hands as he turns, as his gaze meets hers'. She hears herself gasp and her hand goes to her swollen midsection. It's like she's been kicked, but from which side?

He puts his head down and slowly, too slowly, begins to skate towards her. It's like watching him move in slow motion, like watching skate through knee deep water. She's had time to watch almost every video on youtube and she knows he can skate quicker than he is. Does it mean he's as reluctant for this reunion as she is?

Her nails dig into the boards and she wills herself to stand there and wait. Say nothing. Just breathe. That, in and of itself, is made more difficult by her racing pulse. With every gliding step he takes, her heart beat quickens until it seems like all she can hear is the rush of her own blood in her veins and the frantic hammering of her heart.

When he gets within a few feet of the bench he raises his eyes and she feels the ice she's surrounded her heart with melt away. He actually looks as vulnerable and scared as she feels.

'Don't forget the bomb you're about to lay on him', she reminds herself. She knows the look on his face might…no, _will_ change the moment she tells him. '_He's got everything, the whole world at his feet. He doesn't need this. He's going to hate this_,' she tells herself. It's sort of like telling herself not to get her hopes up...or _exactly_ like it.

"Tabby."

His saying her name tastes like dark chocolate sauce over fudge ripple ice cream. She opens her mouth but the name that springs to her lips is 'Patrick' and she catches it just in time, and shakes her head and smiles sardonically. Instead she stays silent until he reaches the boards and they find themselves staring shyly at one another like two strangers, or not quite.

"We should talk," she says quietly, the words she's rehearsed in her head coming out almost too quiet but she knows he's heard her as his gaze searches hers'. He wants to know what it means but not here. She won't say anything to him here in front of his teammates. "Is it okay if we…," she lets her voice trail off as she glances over her shoulder to find OB and Eddy and Ehrhoff watching her intently, ready to spring to her defense if needed. She smiles and shakes her head and does her best to look confident even though she feels far from it.

* * *

He manages to open the gate even though his hands are shaking. That's why he doesn't take off his gloves, he's hoping no one will notice if he leaves them on. He can feel everyone watching him and it should be something he's used to but this feels more like 'dead man walking', like he's being lead to the gallows.

It can't be good, he thinks to himself as she turns and heads down the narrow, dim corridor, following her retreating form. She could barely manage a smile for him. 'Well what did you expect?' he shakes his head at his own naivety. Had he really expected some scene out of some stupid romantic movie with them running into each other's arms?

'_Just ask her what it's all about'_, he tells himself firmly, '_get it over with and get back on the ice_.' Sure he'd wanted to see her but if this was all going to go pear shaped….

She turns into one of those rooms the trainer's used, with an examination table and as she turns to face him, he finds himself speechless. Sure he'd seen her but not really. He hadn't registered how her hair is now streaked with some colour, is it dark red? Purple? Both? Or that her milk chocolate eyes are rimmed with kohl or that her full lips are stained blood red. He licks his lips. He wants to kiss her.

She's paler now, but this is Vancouver. It rains here all the time doesn't it? Maybe it's the black dress she's wearing, he thinks and then he thinks it covers too much of her. He can't help but want to undress her in his mind but he doesn't want her to see that he's doing it. He tries to find something else to look at but as soon as he looks down she's suddenly there, reaching for his hand.

He stares down at her outstretched hand like he expects it to burn him and her eyes go wide. Their hands pause there, mid air, fingertips almost touching but not.

"You left," he hears his own voice accusing her and he wishes he could take it back.

"You left first," she says quietly.

"I went back," he insists. "You were gone."

"You practically called me a whore," she whispers back, and withdraws her hand, backing slowly away from him. He can't stop looking at her. She's so damn beautiful. He doesn't want to fight. _So why am I?_ he asks himself. " I…I didn't come to fight," she whispers and he can't help thinking 'thank god' and then he finds himself reaching out for her and now she's looking at his hands like she expects him to do something to hurt her. He looks down at his stick and smiles. How can he blame her when he's got a weapon in his hand? He leans the stick against the wall and moves again toward her but she holds her hand out, like a ward. "You…there's something you should know," she says quietly and, as he watches, she smoothes her dress over her belly, only it's not…it's not the small, feminine sort of swell but it suddenly looks like she's hiding a rugby ball under there.

He stares at the bulge she seems to be holding between her hands up for a long time before he looks up and meets her gaze. Her dark eyes are welling over with silver tears. He opens his mouth but no words come out. He feels numb. He's not sure what he should feel. There's a voice in the back of his head, more like a warning siren, telling him that this is exactly what Troy has warned him about, saying it's a trap and to deny it and yet….

His hands reach out and though he can see a flicker of fear in her gaze she doesn't flinch as his hands slide over hers, cradling her stomach until they're standing close, his body alongside hers', close enough that he can taste orange juice on her breath.

"I'm here," he says out loud, as if he's made a decision he's not fully aware of making. She turns her gaze up to meet his and all he can see is her full, red, mouth and in the next moment he's kissing her, her lips moving and parting beneath his.


	23. Chapter 23

_thanks for waiting for this, it was a long chapter to write!_

Chapter 22

The next few minutes were a confusing whirlwind that resulted in Tabby finding herself sitting on the edge of a single bed in a luxurious hotel room a few blocks from the arena. This had been her first taste of what it meant to date the face of the NHL. She'd barely had time to register that he had seemed to accept her news when they were pried apart like a couple of kids making out under the bleachers and she'd been unceremoniously shoved into a taxi and then frog marched into the hotel, given a swipe card and told to 'wait'.

So she waited, tapping her fingers impatiently on the quilt, staring straight ahead, trying to be neither upset nor offended. After all, he had looked as stricken as she was when they'd been unceremoniously torn apart and she'd been able to hear him arguing at the top of his lungs as she'd been bundled down the hallway so she knew he'd been just as surprised as she had. Tabby smiled to herself as she thought of the sound of his voice, desperate and angry, asking why, over and over again with each time louder than the last.

She brought her fingers up to her lips and her smile grew as she thought of the tender, yet earnest kiss they'd shared. For one brief and shining moment, everything had been alright again but now….

Tabby's heart began to race as she heard the sound of raised voices outside of the room and her gaze focused on the door as she wondered who would come through it. She relaxed marginally when she saw his caramel coloured eyes scan the room before his gaze converged on her.

"For a moment, I wasn't sure if you were really here," he said quietly, closing the door behind him and leaning against it and suddenly the vast bridge between them seemed to be back, although, she thought to herself, at least now she could see him on the other side.

"You do know this is yours, right?" It was more a statement than a question, but it was uppermost in her mind that she be clear on this. "I mean, I'll take whatever DNA or paternity test or whatever you want but…." He shook his head as he crossed the room to sit beside her on the end of the bed.

"I believe you…I mean, uh…yeah, we'll probably have to do that but," he held his hand up to stall her reply as she opened her mouth to argue, "it won't be me asking for it," he added, his hand moving forward to cradle her cheek as his gaze searched hers' as if to see if she understood.

"You mean your…what are they? Like FBI agents or secret service or something?" she asked, thinking of the brisk and efficient way that they had removed her from the arena. Sid's answering smile was derisive.

"NHL and team security," he replied with a sigh. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you who I am. It's…complicated to be with me." Tabby felt herself falling into his eyes as all of his insecurities and his obvious concern poured out of those gold flecked orbs, but she reminded herself that though they had both made strides out onto the bridge, there was one, small matter between them.

"And I guess this isn't going to make it any easier," she added, smoothing her dress over her bump again. She watched, with a certain amount of trepidation as Sidney slowly reached out and then spread his fingers over her stomach. She stared down at his hand, where it rested gently over hers' and then she turned her gaze up to meet his.

"No," he replied simply with a sigh and a slight shake of his head. "No, definitely not, but…," his voice trailed away and then he just shrugged, "I still intend to be here for you…if you'll have me." This was the second time that he'd said that and she badly wanted to ask what he meant by it, but was half afraid of the answer so she kept her lips sealed and waited. He leaned in to kiss her, his lips nearly touching hers' when the door burst open and the jumped apart like a pair guilty teenagers.

"Sheeee's baaaack!" Like a herd of buffalo being stampeded off of a cliff, his teammates burst through the door and piled on top of the two of them. Sid looked apologetically over Max's head at her and she found herself laughing and allowing herself to be drawn into a group bear hug.

* * *

"We've got permission to stay over instead of flying to Edmonton tonight," Jordy announced after each of his friends seemed to get enough of hugging and congratulating them on getting back together. Sid wasn't sure that was the case, _yet_, although he was happy to hear that he had some more time to work on it.

"So we're gonna have a thing," Max told them, the big shit eating grin on his face bringing on a serious case of nerves in Sid who knew too well just what that grin could portend.

"A thing?" Sid asked, reaching for her hand. He felt her smaller hand slipping into his, warm and soft and he found himself grinning back at Max, but for an entirely different reason.

"Yeah, a party, for you guys getting back together and hopefully you getting your giant head out of your ass," Jordy gave him that slow smile that wasn't so much a smile as a threat of bodily harm if he argued the point, which Sid was in no mood to do. "We're even going to order champagne," he added, as if it was the cherry on top of the sundae but Sid recognized the undertone and knew that it was more like him saying they understood just how important this was. If only, he thought with a smug smile.

"Thanks guys but uh…," he turned to look at Tabby who was watching him thoughtfully. With his free hand he reached across both of their bodies to spread his hand protectively over the swell of her stomach. "My baby momma won't be doing any drinking."

The sound of jaws dropping was palpable. In that moment of utter stillness, Sid gave Tabby's hand a gentle but firm squeeze and when he looked up into her face, not only was she glowing but he could see that she was biting down on her bottom lip to stop from laughing too.

"Oh man, Troy is going to _killlllll_ you," Max crashed into them and Sid and Tabby found themselves lying on their backs on the bed with Max's arms around them both.

"Thanks for the reminder," Sid sighed, pushing his friend off as he muttered something under his breath about Max acting like a fag which earned him a sharp look from Tabby and a raspberry from Max. "Besides, I think we probably have a lot to talk about…if you guys don't mind, I think we'll skip it."

"No," Tabby gripped Sid's hand more tightly to get his attention and when he looked over at her, the smile on her lips made his heart miss a beat. "It's nice of you to think of us and…and we'll be happy to have a drink or two, right?" she asked, the solemn plea in her eyes making him agree with a half hearted nod.

"Woohoo," Max made a grab for them again but Sid gave him a solid shove which hardly caused the solidly built forward to stumble.

"And maybe I can invite a couple of girlfriends to join us," Tabby added with a sly grin as Max wrapped his arms around her.

"_Double _woohoo!" Jordy shouted louder, puppy piling onto the bed and dragging Max and Tabby off the bed and onto the floor with him.

* * *

"So he didn't run screaming for the hills?" Mel whispered into Tabby's ear as she and Trina stepped out of the cab and onto the sidewalk where Tabby had been waiting for them, both wearing their best 'pulling' gear, which for Mel meant a low cut top that showed off her best assets and for Trina meant a hardly there skirt that showed off hers'.

"Surprisingly, no, or at least not yet," Tabby linked her arms into her friends and lead them both into the foyer of the Sheraton, which was marble and full of well appointed tourists coming and going.

"Does that mean you still expect him to?" Trina asked, looking worried and the only reply Tabby could give was a shrug.

"I don't know. I mean, he announced it to all his guys okay, but to be honest, we haven't had more than two minutes alone since this morning. There always seems to be someone around," she explained with another shrug which earned her a sort of hug from her friends which really meant that they both sort of leaned into her as they stood in front of the shiny elevator doors. "Which is part of why you guys are here," Tabby continued in a hushed tone as the doors opened and family which included two sullen looking, bubble gum chewing tweens wearing matching Team Edward shirts. "Not that I'm asking you to pull a train or anything but if you can help to distract the rest of the guys so that we can maybe sneak away…," she looked at both of her friends, from one to the other, knowing full well that she was wearing a hopeful look on her face.

"Well I'll be honest, I kind had my sights set on just one of his teammates," Trina grinned to herself and there was no doubt with her runway model height and long legs just which one of Sid's teammates that would be. "But for you babes, I'll play ball, for a while," she added with a grin that spoke volumes about just what she planned to do to and have done to her by the second youngest Staal brother.

"Well it's easy for you to choose," Mel sighed dramatically, leaning into the chrome interior of the elevator as they stepped into it, and, turning her head slightly to one side, teased her bangs. "I feel like we're going to a smorgasbord and there are just _too_ many choices." Tabby had already had in mind, with her friend's dry wit and quick smile that she would be a perfect match for Max but she knew better than to play cupid, after all, there would be more than one married man in the room.

As the door opened, Tabby felt her heart begin to race again. He was waiting, just outside the doors, just as he'd promised and as soon as the doors opened, his gaze locked with hers' and she felt her knees get weak all over again. The way he looked at her…_into_ her, made her feel naked and not just physically.

"Damn," Trina hissed under her breath and no one needed any translation. He was beautiful to look as a Greek sculpture, on you-tube or on TV but in person, he left you breathless.

"Have I told you lately that I fucking hate you?" Mel hissed as she planted a swift kiss on Tabby's cheek before she let go of her friend and walked forward to offer her hand and introduce herself to him. Tabby watched him turn his gaze to Mel and give her his undivided attention for a moment, watched him smile at whatever she said, which was bound to be something personal and embarrassing, but for once Tabby wasn't worried about that. All she knew was he was here, real, and the promise in his caramel coloured eyes as he turned them back to her, told her that he was just as eager to have her alone.

But not yet.

Once Trina had also briefly introduced herself before she brushed by him and headed into the full room where, she knew all eyes would be on her statuesque friend, he held his hand out to her and Tabby watched her hand disappear into his. He had such big hands, thick, hard working hands with thick, strong fingers, thick solid wrists and ropey, muscular forearms that lead up to huge guns and round, wide, shoulders.

He didn't so much take her hand as, once his warm, strong fingers closed around hers' he pulled her into him, slid his arms around her and pressed his full lips to the top of her head. It had only been a few minutes since they'd last parted but it had felt like an eternity. Now that she had him again, she clung to him, her arms around his waist as she leaned into his broad chest.

"Before someone else tells you," he whispered into her ear and Tabby felt her entire body stiffen as she raised her eyes to search his face. "Wait, don't look at me like that," he smiled that boyish smile of his that was all dimples and teeth and she immediately relaxed. "I was just going to say I had a private investigator looking for you. I didn't want one of the boys to say something and for you to take it the wrong way." Was there a wrong way to take that, Tabby wondered as she went up on tip toe to press her lips to his. It was flattering and sweet and she was back to feeling like a spoiled bitch for having thrown such a massive tantrum and running away.

* * *

As if he could sense the storm clouds in her mind, Sidney took her face in his hands as their lips parted and let her see just how grateful he was to have her in his arms. He kept expecting someone to pinch him and tell him he was dreaming, that none of this was real and that she was still gone and yet here she was with her arms around his waist, looking at him with those dramatic dark eyes of hers' and her bottom lip was trembling as if she was the one with all of the worries.

Which reminded him, as if the slight swell around her middle where it pressed against him wasn't reminder enough, and as he pressed his lips to her forehead, he told her again. "I'm here. We'll figure this out."

"I know it's a lot to take in," she began, but he shook his head as he ran his fingers through her dark hair, reaching back to unleash it from the ponytail she's put it up in at the back of her neck. Running his fingers through her hair seemed to calm her but it calmed him too. It's was like petting an old family dog, restful, soothing.

"I'm still getting used to the fact that you're here," he told her with a half smile, as he pulled her again into his arms to give her a hug that was maybe a little too hard because she let out a little grunt and suddenly he jumped back, reaching for that swell, his hands pausing in mid air above it. "Does it hurt? I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I mean, I didn't mean to…." Her hands were suddenly there, over his, leading his to her stomach and pressing them flat against it.

"It's fine," she whispers, her hands still over his, but he no longer needed the encouragement. He was suddenly fascinated by the new and different shape of her body, and he spread his fingers around it and over it and when he looked at her, she had the most beautiful smile…. "I can't remember her exact words but the OBGYN said that it's pretty hard to do anything to hurt him from the outside." Sidney stared down at his hands and then back up at her as he removed them.

"Him?" he asked, searching her gaze. She shrugged and laughed. He'd almost forgotten how he loved the sound of her laughter.

"I don't actually know that, I just think of it that way," she explained, and he nodded, reaching up to smooth her hair back from her face where it had fallen as she'd looked down. "Do you…would you prefer a boy?" she asked suddenly and then it was his turn to laugh and shake his head.

"Actually no…I mean not that I'd mind either way but…it might be harder for a boy, you know?" he tried to explain and then wondered just how much she knew about his life, and for how long she had known it. She nodded and made a small sound in her throat that sounded a little like agreement.

"I guess it would be hard to live up to being a national hero," she said quietly and Sidney felt himself blushing, a slow heat rising from his neck to the tip of his ears.

"I'm not…," he began to argue it, as he always did, because it was embarrassing and because if you just agreed with a statement like that people would think you believed it and then they'd say things like you had a big ego and that was something he tried to avoid. Not that anyone on the Pens had much of a chance of that happening. If he or anyone else ever showed the slightest inclination towards actually growing an ego, that person was likely to find himself handcuffed, naked, to the nearest lamppost. So instead of arguing he just rolled his eyes and she laughed again, which made him smile. He really had missed her laugh. "I missed you," he admitted suddenly and her smile faded a little at the corners.

"I missed you so much," she admitted in turn and offered her lips up to his, but just as he was about to take them in a kiss he was fairly sure would lead to him carrying her into his room, he heard the unmistakable sound of Max clearing his throat in hat annoying way that could only mean one thing. "Yeah, yeah, we're coming," he muttered, rolling his eyes again which made her laugh.

"One drink," she whispered against his mouth, "and then we'll find somewhere to talk." Sighing, he nodded and offered his hand instead of his lips and together they followed Max into the party.

* * *

Trina was already well on her way to scooping Jordan's tonsils out with her tongue and Tabby wasn't that surprised to find that Mel was making herself the creamy filling in a Brent Johnson and Alex Goligoski sandwich. If Mel could find a married man in a room to flirt outrageously with she would. So not every pair of eyes turned to them when they came into the room but those that did raised their glasses and toasted 'the happy couple'.

For herself, Tabby felt herself beaming as Sid introduced her to each of his teammates and though she'd already grown to hate complete strangers touching her 'baby bump', she kept grinning even as each of them gave her stomach a pat and told her just how much trouble she was getting their captain into. Once they'd made a circuit of the room and Sid had finished the drink that Max had pressed into his hand, he whispered into her ear that he was ready to 'get out of here' and so, like a pair of horny teenagers heading for the boiler room, they slipped out of the party and padded down the hall, glancing over their shoulders and giggling like they were truly getting away with something. She'd seen the looks that his friends had given him and she'd seen the furtive winks that they had thought were behind her back. Not that she minded. She was just as eager to get him alone, the memory of digging her nails into his broad shoulders as he'd driven himself balls deep into her had been playing in the back of her mind since that first kiss back at the rink.

And yet, when he closed the door behind them and threw the bolt, she had the distinct impression that the vast bridge was back. They were suddenly standing there, apart, he at the door and she a little further into the room and neither of them seemed eager to make a move to close the distance between them. His hand was still on the lock, like he had a half a mind to unlock it and run, probably screaming for his mama and for her part, Tabby couldn't stop thinking about the strange new shape that her body had taken and just how unsexy she felt all of a sudden.

What they'd had during the summer had been physical dynamite. They'd barely been able to keep their hands off of each other and yet now, that they were finally alone, neither of them seemed willing to make the first move.

_He probably thinks it would be gross to do it to a pregnant chick,_ Tabby thought as she turned into the room and stared at the two single beds, each with a suitcase at its' foot, a pair of runners and pair of good shoes next to them. Not that she wasn't sure that she felt the same, after all, his body was a picture of perfection with his wide shoulders and his sculpted chest that tapered to a perfect 'v' just below his perfect six-pack. In comparison she felt like a manatee, shapeless bulging flesh with swollen, aching tits and a strange yearning for egg rolls and barbeque chicken.

She was licking her lips at the thought of biting into a drumstick covered in thick, sweet and tangy barbeque sauce and wishing she'd eaten some of crackers and cheese and garlic coil that had been in the other room when she felt her hair swept off of her neck, replaced by the soft press of his lips. Closing her eyes, Tabby chased away the images of food from her imagination and replaced them with the images she'd used time and again to chase away the loneliness over the last few months; his naked torso, slick with sweat, as he worked on the stairs, water streaming over his short, dark hair as he kissed her in the shower.

For a moment she forgot that she was four months pregnant and leaned back into him, reaching up to curl her fingers around his thick neck. He obviously took this as encouragement and his teeth dug into her skin, making her gasp out loud. His hands slid down over her shoulders, holding her firmly, pulling her hard against him so that any illusion that she had that he didn't want her or that he wouldn't find her appealing, was entirely wiped out. There was no mistaking the feel of him pressed against the small of her back, hard and already eager and yet she couldn't stop herself from reaching back between them and stroking her hand up the hard length of him through his pants, just to be sure.

He moaned into the curve of her neck and pressed himself into her hand. She felt her own lips curl into a smile as she heard him drag in a ragged breath as she gave him a good hard squeeze before letting go and reaching around to dig her fingers into the solid muscle of his ass, pushing him against her as she backed herself into him. He swore under his breath and she giggled as she thought to herself that maybe Trina had been right after all, maybe she was still a little desirable.

It was like riding a bike, Sidney thought as his hand slid up from her waist, up along her rib cage to the slope of her breast. He knew her body like Braille, knew every curve with his eyes closed and just as it always had from the very first moment, every one of her touches sent his body into flames. She giggled as she ground her ass against his cock and though he'd missed her laugh, now he didn't want to laugh. He didn't want to talk. He just wanted to be inside of her and the sooner the better. He wanted every single, solitary fantasy he'd had while they were apart to come true. He tweaked her nipple between his finger and thumb and she squeaked and batted his hand away.

* * *

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He spun her around and searched her face but she only grinned back at him, reaching up to brush her fingertips down his cheek before she pressed her lips to his in a brief but searing kiss.

"Yesss," she hummed against his mouth before drawing back so that he could see that even though the answer was affirmative, it hadn't changed her mood. "They're crazy sensitive, you have to just be a little…more tender with those," she explained, dropping her hand down to grab his and leading it back to her breast. He stared down at his hand where it was splayed across her breast and wondered at it. Maybe he didn't remember her body quite as well as he thought he did. "Yes, they're bigger," she answered his unspoken question and giggled again.

"Can we…I mean should we…I mean, will it hurt or something?" he asked, now that he was actually looking at her body and not just imagining her writhing naked at the end of his dick.

"I told you," she whispered, nipping at his bottom lip, "you can't break me."

With that, she stepped back from him and then reached back and began to undo the zipper at the back of the dress. Before, he might have just enjoyed the show, but something in his head told him that this wasn't the way to treat the mother of his child. So instead of being a bystander, Sid moved around her and gently brushed her hand away from the zipper and pulled it down himself, revealing her warm, amber skin inch by inch, kissing his way down her back until he was kneeling behind her, pressing his lips to the small of her back.

He heard her sigh as he gently let the dress pool around her feet and turned his attention instead to the backs and insides of her thighs, kissing and nipping at them until his hands slid up underneath her panties and held onto her ass even as he bit down on the swell of it through the soft fabric. These weren't the kinds of panties she'd worn back at home, when she wore them at all.

"These are…interesting," he mused, fingering the fabric that covered the entirety of her bottom and, as he encouraged her to slowly turn around, all of her front too.

"Well _this_ is your fault," she pointed out, pushing the pair of cotton granny panties down to reveal the swell of her stomach. Sidney stared at it, at the way her hands cupped it protectively and suddenly it was very hard to swallow, let alone breathe. He could hear Troy again in his head, telling him to deny it, telling him that this was a trap, to run as far and as fast as he could. Instead, his hands slowly moved up and his fingers spread over it and he looked up at her and felt guilt sitting heavily in his own stomach.

"I haven't exactly been an angel since…while we were apart," he began, hearing Dr. Burke in his head telling him that he had to be honest and open with his sexual partners. Not that there was anything to catch now. He was clean as a whistle down there, medically cleared for carnal duty, but still….

"Are you trying to ask if there's any chance this belongs to someone else?" Tabby started to back away but Sidney scrambled to his feet and engulfed her in his arms before she could get away.

"No," he insisted. He knew. He'd known from the moment he saw her standing behind the boards and the protective way that Bieksa had hovered behind her. She wasn't _that_ kind of girl. She was _his_ girl. "I know you wouldn't lie about something like this," he added softly, moving her back until she was sitting on the bed and he was sitting beside her, still holding her. "I mean you didn't know when we, y'know," he added glancing at her and then away.

"But?" she asked quietly, as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"There will be people…they'll say things, hurtful things. They'll say…they'll suggest…." He couldn't bring himself to say it but as he looked down into her eyes he could see that she understood what it was he was trying, badly, to say.

"When I told Kev and Katie…the Bieksa's about you and," her hand dropped to cover her bump before she continued. "They explained about you and how important you are…that you're like the crown prince of hockey or something," she added quietly with a half smile that told him that she understood that that wasn't a good thing. "They told me that I'd be the most hated woman in the whole country," she smirked as if she liked the idea of taking on the world and the girl he'd come to love, he could picture that. "So I guess I know. I mean, I don't know…obviously, how bad it's going to be. I mean, if you still want me that is," she added even more quietly, her voice fading into silence as she searched his face with her dark eyes.

Sidney brushed her hair back from her face and let himself look at the woman he loved. Still loved. Loved again. Whichever it was, he knew his feelings hadn't faded, even while they'd been apart and even though there were warning bells in his mind and even though he knew just how bad it was going to be, he also knew there was nothing and no one on this earth that was going to take her away from him again, ever.

So he kissed her, first softly, slowly. He tasted her lips and her tongue and felt her body sway into his, lighting fires wherever her skin brushed his. Then he pressed her down into the bed and laid his body down beside hers'. He ran his fingertips lightly over her skin, from the curve of her neck, down to her collarbone, over the half moon swell of her breast where he stopped to run the pad of his thumb around the stiff nub of her nipple until she moaned and arched her back off of the bed. He ran the flat of his hand down to her stomach and then stopped, letting his lips catch up.

"Hey little guy," he whispered, his lips lightly brushing her belly button. "I'm the douchebag who knocked up your mom. You're welcome." She laughed, making her entire body quake beneath his hands and mouth, encouraging him. "I'm sorry we kind of screwed things up but I'm gonna try and make it up to your mom before you get here so hopefully I'll be there when you make it out."

He looked up along the plane of her body to where she had propped herself up on her elbows to watch him and he found her both smiling and crying at the same time. Wordlessly she reached for him with one hand and he went gratefully into her arms.

* * *

It was neither easy, nor straightforward, but somehow they managed. Their bodies tangled together, urgent, yet patient, eager and careful all at once. Horrified by the idea of hurting her, Sidney had insisted she be on top, even though she'd tried to explain that it didn't matter how they did it, that what was done was done and he wasn't going to be bumping the fetus' head with his cock no matter what position they decided on.

Still, as she slid down the hard, long length of him, she was grateful to be able to look down at his face and to have him looking up at her like she was something beautiful too.

It did feel different, though, she had to admit that. She felt every touch, every stroke more intensely than ever before and when the orgasm came, it erupted like a roman candle inside of her, sending her entire body up into flames. She felt it everywhere, from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes and it left her breathless and shaking.

He'd always pleased her, that had never been a problem, but not like this, she thought as she leaned forward, her hands on his shoulders, her hair pooling around him like branches of a willow tree reaching for water. She'd never felt release this quickly or this intensely. Not with him, not with anyone and it took her a minute to catch her breath.

"What was that?" he asked, reaching up to brush a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Amazing," she sighed happily, sliding her hands down his chest until she felt the hard peaks of his nipples under the palms of her hands. Grinning to herself, she rotated her hands slowly until he began to writhe beneath her and then she began to slowly move over him, raising her hips and lowering them just enough to feel him inside of her. His eyes rolled back in his head and a low moan escaped his full, pink lips.

Moving her hands back up to his shoulders, she pushed down on him, which helped her slide higher, until he was barely still inside of her and then she rotated her hips, teasing him until he groaned and reached for her, but she grabbed his hands and pressed them over her highly sensitive breasts. She gasped when he pinched her nipples but she didn't ask him to stop this time. Whether it was the endorphins released from her first orgasm or the euphoria of having him again, she wasn't sure. All she did know was, as she slid down the length of him until she could feel his pelvic bone pressing against her clit, was that she was ridiculously happy.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered as she arched her back, pressing herself down over him harder and so that each stroke of his cock was at a more shallow angle, her arms reaching back to press his thighs to the bed. They felt like rocks beneath her hands, she couldn't even dig her fingers into them.

"Trina says I'm glowing," she agreed breathlessly, closing her eyes as he lifted them both up off of the bed, pushing himself up into her hard enough that he tore a gasp from her lungs.

"You are," he agreed, grabbing her hips and rolling her over onto her back, pinning her beneath him, but still careful to keep himself hovering above her. "You so are," he whispered against her mouth as he pressed her thighs apart and back, his hands behind her knees, his cock buried deep in her hot, wet pussy. She reached for his tongue with hers' and felt his twine around her own as they moved together, slowly, as if they'd made a silent agreement to treasure this moment, to make it last.

And yet it seemed her body couldn't keep that promise. As he took a long stroke, nearly pulling out of her snatch entirely and then slowly, slowly burying himself deeply inside of her, she felt the tingle at the base of her spine, felt her pulse quicken and she knew she was going to cum again. If he sensed it or if the muscles inside of her clutching at him undid him, she didn't know but he moaned into his mouth and made two, fast hard strokes before shoving himself inside of her hard and fast and with a growl, he buried his head in her neck and she felt his cock pulsing inside of her and suddenly the wave crashed to the beach and she felt herself drowning in it, her entire body clenching and releasing as a primal scream was torn from her throat.

She held him tightly, sobs wracking her entire body as the wave ebbed and left them both slick with sweat, panting and unable to move of their own volition. They held onto each other as if they had just survived going over Niagara Falls and had found themselves alive on the beach. It seemed he had even forgotten about his concern about hurting her, as nearly his entire weight was pressed against her, and she couldn't remember the last time she had ever felt so safe.

"Are you…is everything okay?" he asked at last, raising himself off of her, but still holding her close. She smiled and nodded and sighed happily as she relaxed against him.

"Perfect," she mumbled, pressing her cheek to his collarbone, fitting herself neatly beneath his chin. "This is the best I've felt in months," she added, stroking her hand over this hip and down his thigh.

"Me too," he whispered into her hair, pressing his lips to the top of her head and wrapping his arms around her. "Me too." Then, just when she thought that he had dropped off, she felt his lips in her hair again and then his arms squeezed her again. "And everything's going to be alright. I don't know how yet but…they will Tabs. I promise."

She nodded and made a noise she hoped that he would take as her believing him but a little of the glow fades as she thought about all the warnings she's had had and all that she knows they will be facing and she can't help but wonder if he would really be able to keep that promise.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 23

The boys mostly looked a little worse for wear when they joined them for breakfast. It was a good thing it was a travel day or they'd have heard about it from Disco Dan. Sid was tired, but the good sort of tired that had left him feeling relaxed if a little bone weary. He raised the hand he was holding to his lips before pulling out a chair for her beside Flower because Flower won't say anything crass or derogatory. Flower is safe and he's sitting as far from Max and Tanger as Sidney can get her.

"Comment sont les deux tourtereaux, ce matin?" he asked as he reached for the pitcher of orange juice in the middle of the table and began pouring it in her glass.

"Just a little, thanks," she held up her hand to make him stop pouring, "that stuff gives me the worst heartburn these days," she added by way of explanation. Flower nodded and then poured a full glass for Sid who promptly chugged it down. He was low on fluids. A pint down as Mario would say with one of those knowing smiles. "Speaking of lovebirds," Tabby leaned towards Flower, her voice pitched low. "Has anyone seen my friends?"

MAF laughed suddenly and both Sid and Tabby followed his gaze towards where Tabby's slightly shorter friend was sitting between Gogo and Johnny, chatting animatedly while the two teammates, sitting either side of her, were giving each other that more than slightly uncomfortable look that said they'd seen and done too much together, but neither of them seemed willing to leave her either, both listening intently, reaching for juice or salt or whatever the bubbly brunette wanted. Tabby snorted and shook her head.

"And you're other friend," Duper interjected, passing Sidney a freshly buttered multigrain roll, "left a little while ago. She said to tell you…," he paused and stared into space for a moment before an amused smile grew on his face. "Oh yeah, that she's sorry that she forgot the keys to the handcuffs and not to leave without calling her."

Even covering her mouth with her hand didn't stop Tabby from sending a spray of orange juice across the table. Sidney shook his head and reached for a napkin, dapping at the orange droplets while rolling his eyes at her.

"Has anyone gone up to see if Jordan needs some help?" she asked sheepishly.

"Cookie's already called a cop he knows," Duper grinned, offering her a chocolate chip muffin, which she accepted greedily, ripping the top off of it and taking a large bite out of it. "So, what are you two going to do? Is she coming with us for the rest of the road trip or are you sending her straight back to the Burgh?" Tabby raised an eyebrow at Sidney, which he took to mean she didn't appreciate being talked about as if she wasn't there or wasn't part of the equation.

Of course they had talked about, in the wee hours of the morning, but they hadn't come to any decisions. Sidney understood her reluctance to move so far from her friends and family, considering her condition and classes she's already paid for. On the other hand, he had absolutely zero intention of leaving her behind.

"I'll be meeting you guys in Pittsburgh," Tabby answered quietly, and Sidney felt her reach for his hand under the table. He turned and searched her face. She met his curious gaze with one of her half smiles. He mouthed the words 'are you sure?' to her and she nodded, giving his hand a firm squeeze. "I mean, I hear there's nothing but video game consoles and stinky hockey gear in this house of his," she added for the benefit of the boys at the table, "so I guess you'd better leave your credit card with me. After all, we've got a nursery to set up."

* * *

"Are you sure you have time for this?" Tabby asked as the cab pulled up in front of her parents' house. Her stomach was doing crazy cartwheels and it was only the feel of Sidney's hand around hers' that was stopping her from telling the taxi driver to turn around and go back the direction they'd come from.

"I've got about an hour," he replied, checking his watch again, "but I think if I'm going to steal their little girl away, the least I can do is introduce myself," he added, leaning across her to look up at the seventies split level with the dual carport and the five year old Honda Accord in the driveway. "So, do you think your dad will get out the shotgun?"

"It isn't my dad you have to worry about," Tabby grinned, pushing the door open and stepping out onto the grass. "It's my brother, and he's kinda like Cookie. By the time he's using his fists, you're so pissed already you can't see straight." Sid rolled his eyes as she pulled him out of the car. He was wearing a dark, charcoal colored suit with light blue pinstripes and a matching blue shirt and tie. Her mother was going to be impressed.

Her brother, on the other hand….

Darrel was already at the door and he was wearing an expression on his face that she knew well; the protective brother. The 'I'll kick your ass and like it' look. It wasn't hard to imagine that Sid had likely seen and faced worse. Still, she felt his hand tighten around hers' as they walked up the driveway.

"So, you're the dick who knocked up my sister." It was Tabby's turn to roll her eyes as her little brother held his hand out towards Sidney, who stared down at it, probably half expecting it to be withdrawn the moment he put his out. To his credit, her little brother didn't draw it back and laugh, he actually shook Sid's hand when it was offered.

"I am," Sid replied, those creases she so loved around his eyes deepening as he smiled. "Which I guess makes you the Uncle huh?"

"Yep," Darrel replied, puffing up his chest and looking every inch the proud and protective Uncle. "Which means I get first dibs on totally kicking your ass if you so much as hurt my sister's feelings," he added in a threatening tone as he moved aside to let them in. Tabby felt Sidney stiffen, but he didn't react. She wondered how many years of having guys threaten to kick your ass it took before you could be as cool as a cucumber when someone was threatening your life.

Having said his piece, Darrel lead the way upstairs where Tabby was shocked to see her parents standing like mannequins, watching her with guarded eyes. Her father was even wearing a tie. Now it was Tabby's turn to brace herself. She felt Sidney's grip tighten ever so slightly on her hand before he let it go, holding his hand out first to her dad and then to her mother, who, instead of taking his hand pulled him into a bear hug.

Was that relief on her mother's face? Tabby rolled her eyes at her brother who was smirking at her from behind her father's back. Of course it was, she decided. Their daughter had been summarily saved from a life as a single mother, which, she realized, let her parents off the hook, financially speaking. That, and they were welcoming a millionaire into their home and that alone had probably put a smile on her mother's face.

"That was quite a game last night," her father began and Darrel made another face as Tabby did her best to chew on the inside of her lip rather than nervously laughing at the idea of her father trying to make small talk.

"Yes sir. The Canucks are always a tough opponent," Sidney answered as if he was talking to a reporter in the dressing room. It seemed, however, to be the right answer as her father smiled and nodded.

"So, you're off to LA," her father noted as he ushered them all into the living room.

"Well, the team is. I mean yes, I'm going with the team but Tabs," Sidney reached for her hand and brought it over to his knee and she couldn't help but smile to himself. He was taking ownership and maybe it was a little comforting too. "Tabby's agreed to fly to Pittsburgh and move in to my house." Tabby snuck a look at her father from beneath her bangs and saw him wince, just slightly, but enough that she noticed the tic at the corner of his jaw. She was, after all, daddy's little girl.

"That's quite a decision to make overnight," her mother pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at both of them. Tabby opened her mouth to tell her mother to stuff it but Sidney smiled warmly and gave Tabby's hand a firm squeeze.

"Well if things had worked out the way I'd wanted them to," he said quietly with a quick glance toward Tabby, "I think she would have already been there." Tabby felt her heart swell in her chest until it was literally impossible to breathe as his melted milk chocolate gaze held hers. He smiled, but it was only for her and she felt as if they could have been sitting along the Seine instead of her parents' living room. He had a knack for that, for making her feel like she was his entire world and nothing else mattered.

"Well I'll still kill you, even if I have to get on a plane to do it." Darrel ruined the perfect moment and Tabby shot him her most withering glare but as usual, it only served to make her younger sibling misbehave even more. "Of course if you want to set me up with some of those puck bunnies I see dressed up in those wedding dresses at the game, I guess I could let you get in a slap or two."

"Believe me, you don't want anything to do with those girls," Sid laughed, all dimples and teeth while Tabby shook her head. "But you'll be welcome to visit, any time. All of you," he added, taking in her parents and her brother. "Just say the word and I'll make it happen. No expense to you of course," he added, to clarify Tabby thought, and maybe just a little to set her parents at ease. "I mean, I know Tabs will probably want you there in a few months," he continued, turning his attention back to her and raising the back of her hand to his lips and pressing them down gently on her knuckles. "I know I'll need someone to help me with the diapers." Tabby knew it was a lie, that he'd changed plenty when his younger sister was born, with their having such disparate ages, but she appreciated the white lie nonetheless. Her mother beamed at the idea of being wanted and needed and probably at the idea of being flown out first class if not in a private jet.

"I hope you know how luck you are young lady," her father finally turned his attention back to his daughter and Tabby nodded, her gaze holding Sidney's, letting him see just exactly how lucky she thought she was. "You landed on your feet, but he doesn't have to do the right thing. In my day there would definitely have been some pressure to get to the alter…." Tabby shot her father a dark look, giving a quick shake of her head to silence him. The fact that Sidney had owned up to being the father before insisting on DNA evidence was enough.

"I know how lucky I am sir," Sidney answered quietly, his gaze still holding hers', making her blush with its' intensity, with the intimacy of having him look at her that way in front of her family. "And I intend to do the right thing," Sidney added, his other hand reaching for hers'. His thumbs stroked the back of her hands and she thought she felt his hands shake and suddenly she thought she felt as if she'd misunderstood the plea she had seen in his eyes.

"Sidney has to go," she grinned at him, giving his hands a squeeze before standing up and pulling him with her. He had the presence of mind to shake his head and look as if he was going to argue with him but she understood. This was a little much, her dad practically trying to get the poor guy to ask her to marry him as if anyone really cared about whether a kid was born in or out of wedlock these days. She let go of Sidney's hands and went over to hug her mother and then her father before turning towards her brother. "And as for you, troublemaker," she grinned as he picked her up off of her feet and pulled her into a rib crushing, spine cracking hug. "Look after mom and dad for me," she whispered.

"Get a room ready for me in that big fucking house, I'm coming down there to chase puck bunnies," her brother replied, laughing as he set her back down on her feet.

"It's a deal," she promised, turning as she felt Sidney's hand on her shoulder. "Ready?" she asked and he nodded. Taking his hand, she turned and found that her eyes began to fill as her parents stood watching them, their arms around each other. She gave a little wave and then tugged Sidney down the stairs without looking back.

* * *

This sucked.

He had just found her again and then he'd had to kiss her goodbye at the airport. He told himself it was only going to be for a few days, but that did nothing to alleviate his currently very black mood. Not only had he got her back and lost her in just over twenty four hours , but it had been the second time that he'd had his grandmother's ring in his pocket and every intention of using it, only to have her blow the big moment.

Sid swore under his breath and slammed his stick against the boards, making a kid in the first row jump back from the glass with a high pitched squeal.

"Nice! That kid will be selling his Crosby jersey on e-bay later," Jordy laughed, grabbing a puck off of the ice and tossing it over the boards to the kid who then looked back at them both with huge, saucer-like eyes. "What's with you tonight? I thought you'd be gliding around, doing triple axles 'n shit."

"I'm not asking her, ever again," Sid muttered, half under his breath but Jordan hears it all the same and laughs.

"So did you actually ask her this time or did she head you off at the pass again?" the big forward asked, arching a single eyebrow and barely concealing one of those smiles that shouted 'gotcha'.

"You asked her?" Max slid to a stop beside where they were standing, sending spray up the glass.

"No…not exactly, no," Sid admitted with a shrug, "but I was going to and she blew me off."

"So you had the ring out and she told you to put it away?" Max asked with an expression on his face that said he knew damn well that he hadn't even got the ring out. He didn't even answer, he just glared at his friend.

"You'll ask her, really ask her, probably soon," Jordan interjected, also earning himself a dark look.

"Nope, I won't," he disagreed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, look how fast you got her back in bed," Max pointed out.

"Me? You mean how fast _she_ did," he growled.

"You keep telling yourself that," Jordan laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll remind you some time about this and you'll laugh." He didn't wait for a reply, Jordan just shook his head and skated away, laughing.

"You've been a fucking mess mon ami. Ne soyez pas si pressé de sortir tout a là façon…" Sid shook his head and gave Max a firm push.

"Don't tell me how to feel and for fuck's sakes don't fucking tell me to slow the fuck down." Max nodded and shrugged, then held his hand up in front of his mouth and twisted his fingers like a key in a lock and then tossed it away.

"C'est ta vie, mon ami, si tu le rate ne nous blâmez pas," Max grinned that 'you're gonna be sorry' grin and Sid shook his head, sighing.

"You're not even in a relationship, why in the hell should I listen to you?" he asked and Max merely shrugged and kept grinning.

"Do you deny that Uncle Max knows more about the gentler sex than you mon ami?" Sid couldn't deny it. Max was a certified player. He probably had a different girl every night and none of them seemed to hate him afterwards. It was a mystery that Sid had often wondered about.

"Okay, so what? Go ahead, impart your goddamn wisdom," Sid grumbled as he followed Max towards the bench.

"All I will say is this," Max began as they slowed to a stop and leaned against the half wall, reaching for water bottles. "It's a good thing you didn't get to ask her. She would probably have said no." The way he said it was so matter of fact that Sid didn't feel he could argue with him but he stared at him nonetheless. "As much as I think you missed your era mon ami, this is not the fifties, oui? You don't have to marry a girl just because elle est dans la façon dont la famille. In fact, having met your girl, I would think if you did ask her now, she would think you were only asking her parce-qu'elle est le bec and she would have said no."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Sidney's chest tightened at the thought of her turning him down and he found that suddenly he wasn't angry or disappointed anymore. He was relieved. "You really think she would have said no?"

"Que pétard?" Tanger joined them at the bench and hung over the wall from the other side. "Mais oui, bien sûr. And she would probably be mad too," Tanger laughed, that dirty sounding laugh that only the guys from Québec could muster. "But the make-up sex…peut-être vaut la peine!"

"You've had a lucky escape, mon capitaine," Max patted his shoulder and then gave Sid's arm a punch. "The time will come and you'll know when it's right but just enjoy her now you know? Il n'est pas nécessaire de se précipiter dans quoi que ce soit."

* * *

"I can't believe you left Jordan handcuffed to the bed," Tabby chuckled as Trina completed her story about her night. Her friends were helping her pack.

"Look, what I did was vanilla compared to little miss kinky pants over there," Trina coughed a word behind her hands that sounded a lot like 'slut', but it didn't go anywhere near erasing the grin that had been permanently affixed to Mel's face for the entire day.

"Sticks and stone," Mel sang as she folded one of Tabby's cocktail dresses over her arm and carefully added it to the growing pile on the bed, "but I got to sleep with two hot hockey players, not just one. So pfttth." Mel stuck her pierced tongue towards them both and Trina and Tabby just shook their heads.

"Weren't both of them married?" Tabby tried to remember the list of players she had been trying to memorize, along with the names of their wives and significant others. She was pretty sure the back-up goalie was married but the other one….

"Yeah, yeah. So?" Mel beamed at them both.

"You really have no morals do you?" Trina shuddered and went back to rooting through Tabby's underwear drawer, which in and of itself, was disturbing. However, as she had been quick to point out she probably was never going to wear a thing or g-string again and then it was Tabby's turn to shudder. Had he actually called them 'granny panties'?

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Tabby sat down suddenly as tears filled her eyes. "You guys were supposed to help with this and now I'm going all the way to some shitty city where I don't know anyone and…." She couldn't even finish the sentence before she was sobbing in her friends' arms.

"Yeah but you got your man," Trina pointed out to her.

"And he'll be able to afford a nanny," Mel pointed out helpfully.

"And from what I hear the wags are pretty good at sticking together. You'll have them," Trina added, as if it's the answer to everything.

"But they're not you," Tabby sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"But you love him," Mel and Trina say together and then giggle and someone calls out 'coke'. Tabby shook her head and allowed her friends to wrangle her into a gigantic hug. '_Yes'_, she thinks to herself, '_I do, but is that going to be enough?_'


	25. Chapter 25

_Back from holidays, thought I'd stay up til the wee hours and get something posted!_

Chapter 24

It turned out Mel and Trina weren't far off when they said that the Wags stuck together. Veronique and Michelle Cooke met Tabby at the airport with hugs and big smiles. They made sure her things went directly to the house, while in the mean time, they took her out for lunch to a little Italian place that the boys apparently frequented.

"This will be the first and last time you get to order for yourself," Michelle warned her and Tabby felt herself staring at the petite blonde beauty and her piercing blue eyes, waiting for an explanation.

"They have a 'family dinner'," Veronique explained, "which is a big bowl of spaghetti and a bowl of meat sauce and a lot of bread. This is what they order all the time," she added with a grin.

"And they eat all that?" Tabby asked, pitching her voice low as the waiter passed by, giving them that glance that told her that lunch was not all day and he'd like them to get to ordering.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed how much they eat," Michelle asked, raising her eyebrows and Tabby had to concede that she did know exactly how much they could eat. Tabby settled on a Conchiglie Frutti di Mare while the other two women ordered conchiglie mona lisa and penne Capri. The waiter took their orders and then brought out a chilled bottle of champagne.

"Oh I can't…," Tabby began but Michelle was already pouring it into her glass.

"One glass can't hurt and believe me, this is a celebration," Michelle grinned at her.

"Oui!" Veronique agreed wholeheartedly as she held up her glass. "When my Marc told me that Sidney was seriously seeing someone during the summer, I was thrilled, but now, avec le bébé sur le chemin…." Veronique lapsed into silence and just looked at Tabby her hand held to her chest. "We could not be more happy for the both of you."

"What Vero's trying to say," Michelle touched her glass to Veronique's and then to Tabby's before taking a long sip, "is that the boy is in desperate need of some balance – off ice. So we're glad he's finally found someone. We were all beginning to wonder," Matt's gorgeous wife added with a wink before downing the rest of her glass and then pouring herself some more.

"Wonder?" Tabby looked from one woman to the other and then back to Michelle for explanation.

"Oh c'mon, single, good looking, neat, tidy, very private…?" Michelle raised a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow and stared back at her. Tabby's mouth fell open before she began to blush furiously. 'As if', she thought. Nothing could be further from the truth. "Oh well, that's good to know anyway," Michelle laughed and touched her glass to Veronique's with a 'ching'.

"You have to understand, our boys have…oh how can I say this without scaring you?" Veronique began when Tabby had her blood pressure and general temperature under control enough to meet the dark haired beauty's gaze. "Our men have appétit très sain…ummm…?" she looked to Michelle for help and confirmation and with one quick look around to see if anyone was close enough to overhear, Michelle leaned towards Tabby.

"What Vero is trying to say politely is that our men have huge sexual energy and they need to burn it off on a regular basis. That's why so many of us end up with half a dozen kids," she added with a wicked grin. "And, to be honest, they're not the most faithful men in the world." Tabby began to say that she couldn't imagine Sidney's thoughts straying, let alone his actions but she bit down on her bottom lip and kept silent. Just because when he was with her he made her feel like she was the only woman in the entire world didn't necessarily mean he couldn't use those same charms on any other woman, and that thought made her shoulders sag. "Oh don't look like that," Michelle's bright smile made it hard to maintain her own frown but some of the gild had definitely gone off of the lily as Tabby met her sky blue eyes. "Just because he has the occasional roll in the hay with some ignorant little bitch puck bunny doesn't mean he doesn't love you."

Tabby nodded but the smile on her face was forced. She loved him, with all of her heart. She'd moved to a strange city for him and even though these two women seemed nice, she really didn't know anyone here. To top all of it off, she was pregnant, with his child and she didn't think she was going to be able to compete with the likes of some of the girls she'd seen hanging around the arena, at least not for a while.

She was glad the food came and she was able to chew on something while she moped and tried not to think about the decision she'd made and how it might have been in haste.

* * *

Sid tossed his bag aside, onto the tile floor, as he walked in the front door. The house was waiting silently for him, as always, dark, cool and still except that this hadn't been the welcome he'd been expecting tonight.

Tossing his keys into the dish on the top of the side table at the bottom of the stairs, he made his way up them, his footsteps echoing loudly in the still mostly empty house. He hadn't done much decorating since he'd moved into the big house in September so a lot of the rooms still stood empty. Like the dining room, which he walked through, with its light fixture hanging over an empty space where a table should be, where he should be holding dinners with his friends and family. Where he would if….

The kitchen was the only room he had renovated, putting in new cherry cabinets and brand new stainless steel appliances. He turned on the light and something else that was obviously new caught his eye as he opened the refrigerator door. His gaze followed the hand painted border around the top of the wall, cheerful looking fruits, vegetables and cheeses in muted colours, looking for all the world as if they had been painted a hundred years ago and were now fading. A smile tugged at his lips as he chugged down half a bottle of water before turning off the light in the kitchen and heading down the hall.

The only light on in the house was in one of the empty bedrooms. Or at least it had been empty and still in primer white when he'd left to go on the road trip. He stood in the doorway now, admiring the sky blue colour on the walls dotted with fluffy looking white clouds, atop which sat any number of recognizable characters like Winnie the Pooh, Tigger, Daffy Duck, Bambi, the Cheshire Cat, Peter Pan and Pinocchio. There wasn't a single Snow White, Tinkerbelle or Ariel in sight. There was, however, Tabby, standing on a step ladder, wearing one of his dress shirts with the arms rolled up to the elbows, and her long, shapely legs bare.

Sidney licked his lips and smiled. He really did like the way she wore his shirts.

He opened his mouth to call out to her, the idea of saying 'honey I'm home' appealed to him, but the words died on his tongue as he looked up at what she was painting on the ceiling. It was another of those clouds, with three figures on it: Jack Sparrow, Will Turner and…and his own likeness, in his gold medal winning Canadian uniform with a stick in his hand instead of a cutlass and his gold medal around his neck. It was made of real gold foil, like the kind that comes off of the chocolate medallions in the Pirate Packs at White Spot.

"I want our son to know his dad's a hero too," she said aloud, without so much as turning around.

"So you're sure it's a boy?" he asked, crossing the distance between them and placing a soft kiss to the smooth skin at the back of her knee. It made her squirm, but he had a firm hold on her and gently took her down from her perch to place her feet firmly on the floor.

"Even if it's a girl, and I still don't think it is," she grinned at him as he turned her around. "I still want her to know that I think her daddy is just as handsome and just as brave as any old pirate, even Johnny Depp."

"Arrgh." He growled, hoping he sounded something like a pirate. She laughed as she looked down at him but his funny bone didn't seem to be working. He pressed his lips over hers' in a long, hard kiss, then he took the brush out of her hand and her paint palette too, dropping them carelessly on the floor before picking her up off of her feet again. He carried her out of the room with his mouth still clamped firmly over hers, looking for the nearest dry surface to press her up against.

She wasn't wearing any panties. He'd known it as soon as he'd gone to kiss the tender, smooth spot behind her knee, but with her legs clamped around his waist he became painfully aware that her smooth, warm skin was there, just on the other side of his pants just beneath his yellow dress shirt. That made things worse as his brain went racing ahead, his imagination that had already been painting pictures of what her pussy looked and tasted like during the entire flight, making his dick harder as he thought about her slick pink folds, gleaming with her juices, warm and inviting.

She moaned as he pressed himself against her, his belt buckle doing the work his fingers wanted to be doing as he held her against the wall, his hands cupping her ass, lifting her so that he could reach down and undo his zipper to work himself free. She gasped as he pressed himself into her, lowered her down onto his throbbing erection.

She wasn't ready, not quite, but she didn't ask him to stop either. Not that he was sure that he could. He'd been thinking about this moment for the entire flight. He'd even had to slip into the bathroom, jerking off hard and fast as he thought about her full, red lips around his cock, her pink tongue sweeping around the head of his dick, licking off the last drop of cum and smiling up at him as she said 'welcome home'.

He used his chin and his teeth to pull a button free from the shirt she was wearing, pushing the fabric aside so that he could nuzzle her breasts, his mouth finding her nipples, hard little nibs of sensitive flesh that, when he sucked them into his mouth, made her gasp and dig her fingers into his hair. His tongue swept wetly around those pink little pebbles and his lips closed over them, enjoying the taste of her ivory clean skin and the feel of those little bumps beneath his tongue as they stiffened for him.

She whimpered and her fingernails dug into the back of his neck, but it was the warm slick feeling of her pussy walls pulsating around his cock that was his reward. She was ready now and he slid his cock almost entirely free of her tight little hole before jamming it back home again, thrusting himself balls deep inside of her and ripping a high, faltering cry from her lips.

For a moment, he thought he'd gone too far, that he'd hurt her but her thighs clenched around his waist and her heels dug into the backs of his thighs and he took both of those as signs to continue, to use his hands to pull her up and push her down onto his rod. She buried her head into his shoulder and made those little noises, the ones he'd first heard her make in the summer, and those sounds, idiosyncratic to her, egged him on. Not that he particularly needed encouragement at that point. Just having her in his arms, having her in his house, for real, was enough.

He felt her teeth sinking into his neck and he knew, just by the feel of it, that the bite would leave a mark and the guys were going to give him the gears about it in practice tomorrow but for now, the pain was sweet and heightened his arousal. He slammed into her, heard the breath driven from her lungs in a rush of air, and he felt the swell of her stomach around their child and something in his brain told him to take it down a notch, pull back, but the other part of his brain was beyond listening to reason. The red haze had fallen behind his eyes and he was like a jack hammer, his cock pulling out and forcing itself inside, forcing her pussy walls wider and wider, almost to the point of tearing and he knew, he was almost sure, that he was hurting her and still he couldn't stop and still she never asked him to.

Instead she whispered things in his ear, worse than just 'harder' or 'fuck me'. His brain couldn't really make sense of the words but he thought that he should be shocked, that those kinds of things shouldn't come out of the mouth of the mother of his child. The other part of his brain, however, the animal part that still wanted to punish her for leaving him, for not being at the door to welcome him home in an apron, thought it was fucking great that she wanted his fat fucking cock in her dripping fucking pussy.

"Do you want it harder, bitch?" he hissed, letting the wall and one hand hold her long enough to grab a handful of her hair so he could pull her head back, so he could look into her beautiful dark eyes. They flashed, maybe a warning, maybe he was imagining it, but again, he couldn't think about it enough to really care. All he knew was that her lips spread over her teeth in a grin that reminded him so much of the Joker from Batman, the one that dead guy played, the last one as he walked away from that hospital in his nurses gown, half crazy, half deadly.

"I don't think you have it in you," she growled, one of her hands sliding down from his neck, over his shoulder, down his chest. She looked him straight in the eye and grinned as she gave one of his nipples a hard twist. It hurt, gods but it fucking hurt, but it also took his brain somewhere, brought him close to the place where he could feel his balls tucking up tight, felt every single nerve and fiber in his body burning.

With a growl that was born of both frustration and feral longing, he forced her lips down onto his and kissed her, their teeth mashing, their tongues dueling outside of their mouths as he pressed his body against hers' until there was no room for even air between them. He jammed his cock into her, over and over until he felt her entire body go rigid around him. Not just her pussy, though it squeezed around his dick and sucked at it, as if it alone could pull him deeper into her. Her mouth pulled back from his and her head hit the wall, her eyes rolling back in her head, her mouth falling open as she screamed.

The neighbors were going to think that he was fucking killer her.

He fought the urge to cover her mouth with his hand. That might have scared her, and besides the way he had her forced against the wall, one hand was pinned behind her shoulder and the other was holding her ass and even if he'd tried to he probably couldn't have done it in time to stop her. Still it scared him enough to forget, momentarily, that he too was at the edge. He found himself staring at her, at the way her skin seemed pinker than usual, at the fine sheen of sweet on her forehead and at the way her pupils seemed almost too huge to be real.

She was beautiful. Not in the high school cheerleader sort of way. Not even in the Miss USA sort of way. Neither of those kinds of beauties were very real or lasting anyway, he thought as he held himself still while her body shook and shuddered against his. No, Tabby was that girl that scared the cheerleaders and stood up for the freaks and the geeks. She had a dangerous kind of beauty about her. The kind that let you know she could and would kick your ass, but maybe you'd like it. And he did, he decided as she came back to herself and turned those demon dark eyes down to meet his gaze.

"Told you that you didn't have it," she purred, her hand sliding up the back of his head, her fingers grabbing a hold of what little hair there was there and yanking, just as he head, forcing his head back so that she could cover his mouth with hers'. She bit his bottom lip hard enough that he could taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue as he reached for hers'.

With a grunt, he threw himself into her, once, twice, three times and the world went star filter and there was nothing but her lips and her dark eyes and that tightening of his balls as they emptied into her in strong, almost painful pulsations as his dick alternatively squeezed and released as he shot his load deep into her honey pot.

She was crying out again, her nails digging painfully into his scalp as her spine bowed but he couldn't make the words form to ask her to stop. All he could utter, it seemed, was a long, seemingly never ending list of curse words; each filthier than the last until he could barely speak at all. His strength gone, they slid, together to the floor where he cradled her body against his as they waited for their hearts to beat normally again.

"Welcome home," she whispered into the crook of his neck. Sidney smiled and felt one of those giggles that the guys bugged him endlessly about, erupt from his mouth and while she stared at him in confusion, he lay there on the floor of his hallway and laughed until tears flowed down his cheeks.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 25

It was easy to forget.

There were so many things that had to be done in a short amount of time, times made shorter by the fact that he could only do them in the few hours he could steal between practice and games and on the very rare off day. But if he wanted to be involved in the choice of bassinette and if he wanted to be the one to pick out and put together the changing table, then he had to make the time.

It was a happy time, despite the fact that time seemed to slip through his fingers as he watched Tabby's stomach grow and stretch. Every day he put his hands on her stomach and every day there seemed to be that much more space between his fingers.

It seemed strange and wonderful to wake up next to a warm body, to hold her in his arms and know that she was his. To come back from a game, worn out to the bone and have someone there to work at the knots in his shoulders, to remind him to eat, to sleep, to forbid him from watching game video over and over and just take his hand and lead him to bed.

Of course it was also that time of the year when there was other kinds of shopping to do, plans to make for that free day they would have for Christmas, when she would meet his family. A day he was dreading and looking forward to all at the same time.

So with so much on his mind, you could forgive him for being forgetful, just for a moment.

He'd wanted her to drive the Land Rover, figured it was safer with a little snow and ice on the ground but it had been her idea to drive him to the rink. It was a widely held belief that Sidney looked forward to practices. The truth was he was just as liable to drag his ass when it came to early morning practices as anyone else and on this particular morning, he was grateful to have someone more attentive at the wheel, which may have been the other reason he didn't remember.

He forgot about the many pairs of eyes on the vehicle as it passed through the barricades, past the security and down the ramp towards the secured area of the underground parking lot set aside for the players but not entirely apart from the lucky owners of luxury boxes and their guests. He forgot to be coy and to play the role of the sullen single bachelor boy, of the focused professional on his way into work.

Instead he let his lips linger on hers' as they parted, his gaze holding hers' a little longer than it should have if he'd remembered where he was at that particular moment. But he didn't. Not until he stepped out of the vehicle and instead of the usual screams, instead of hearing his name called out and hearing it echo against the concrete around him, Sid found himself surrounded by utter silence and he knew, with a twisting of his gut that he'd been caught.

It felt like the time his mom had opened the door and caught him red handed pulling his pud, Penthouse in hand. He found himself glancing around furtively, his face hot and bright red, his ears burning despite the fact that he was also telling himself furiously that he had every right in the world to have a girlfriend, that damn near every guy on the team did and no one ever made a big deal about that.

And yet he knew, without a singular doubt in his mind that it didn't matter about anyone else. It mattered about him and only him. Even if he thought it was unfair, it was still true and no amount of bitching and moaning on his behalf was going to change that fact.

Sidney glanced up the tunnel towards the gaggle of girls and autograph seekers and saw their wide open eyes staring back at him, their slack jaws and then the silence ended, just like that and was immediately replaced by a buzzing that sounded like he'd walked near a beehive. He watched them turning to one another, speculating behind their hands, pointing, talking about him. They weren't even subtle about it, he thought gloomily dolefully as he hung his head and turned on his heel to head into the building.

There'd be buzz on the net before the game even started, of that he was sure, thanks to face-book and twitter and other so called social media that he probably wasn't even aware of. By the time the game was over there might even be those kinds of fuzzy, indistinct pictures that while, he could hope, wouldn't be clear enough to make out details, would be clear enough to confirm that yes there was a woman driving his SUV and yes, he'd been kissing her.

It would be enough to have Troy calling and reading him the riot act and worse than that, have the Commissioner on the phone, threatening to enforce the privacy clause in his contract, fine him or worse, force him into a press conference and parade Tabby in front of the media and that…that he wasn't willing to stand by and let happen. It was one thing to casually date a girl and have her torn to shreds by puck bunnies on the internet but it was quite another thing to have the kind of Monday Morning Quaterbacks that made up the majority of the Sport media ogling the mother of his child.

With a heavy sigh and a rise and fall of his shoulders, Sidney dug out his blackberry and plugged in the speed dial number for his agent. Pat would know what to do.

* * *

"You've definitely gone up in the world. Nice wheels."

Tabby frowned as she flipped the page of the wallpaper sample book she was currently browsing and glanced up, half expecting to see her friend waving at her.

"I don't get it. How do you know what I'm driving?" she asked and heard Mel snort on the other end of the line.

"Wow…how many times have I said you are so out of touch by not being on Facebook?" Tabby rolled her eyes and pushed the book forward, thereby removing the temptation to continue looking through it and forcing herself to concentrate on what Mel was trying to say.

"Yeah, yeah. And how many times have I told you that I don't want to make it easy for my ex boyfriends to stalk my ass? So again, I'll ask, how is it that you know what I'm driving? Or are you just guessing and trying to make me paranoid?" Twice already Tabby had looked up from one of the decorating books she was looking through at the hardware store to find girls giggling behind their hands and staring at her like she was some kind of bearded lady in a freak show. "As if I'm not already being driven insane by hormones, thanks," she added, making a face as yet another wave of heart burn sent her diving into her purse looking for Rolaids.

"I know some people might find it cute that you're naïve honey but seriously, now that your main squeeze is basically a teen heart throb, you might want to get yourself a fucking twitter account, okay?" Tabby's paused, mid search and withdrew her hand from her purse so she could switch her phone to her other ear, grab her purse and, with a surreptitious glance around, head out into the parking lot.

"What are you talking about?" she hissed into the phone as she pulled the keys to Sidney's Land Rover out of her jacket pocket.

"About you, being on like, every social networking site about hockey players right now," Mel informed her calmly, as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"Are there a lot of those?" Tabby asked as another wave of nausea hit her that had nothing to do with being pregnant and everything to do with the world of being a Wag something she was still learning about and what she'd learned so far…mostly she didn't like.

"Define a lot?" Mel mused and Tabby knew by her tone that it wasn't a question. It was just more of what Mel considered punishment for her lack of social awareness. "Seriously, you have a laptop or something around there?"

"No, I'm in the car," Tabby grumbled as she pressed her forehead to the steering wheel. "Just tell me."

"Well, I guess it could be worse," Mel began and Tabby grimaced. Her friend was sounding way too amused for it to be good news. "I mean, his tongue is definitely down your throat but at least he's not grabbing your tit or something."

"Grrrreat," Tabby sighed out loud, squeezing her eyes tight against the bile rising in her throat. She'd been warned, by Michelle Cooke, by Vero, and a couple of the other well meaning Wags that though some of them did suffer a certain of ridicule on the internet for merely breathing, _when_, not if, her identity became widely known she was certain to receive death threats. "So it's definitely me? I mean you're sure?"

"I hope you're not suggesting that hot boyfriend of yours is cheating on you already!" Mel exclaimed and then laughed, as if the mere suggestion of his infidelity was absurd which sent a shiver of portent down Tabby's spine. She couldn't help but remember the way that both Michelle and Vero had admitted, without so much as batting an eyelash, that infidelity was not only a real possibility, but something to be accepted. The idea of it still gave Tabby a major case of the 'heebie-jeebies'. "Yeah it's you chickie, but then I bought you that shirt, so I'd know," Mel pointed out, which helped Tabby to relax, if only momentarily.

"And what else?" Tabby asked, leaning back against the leather seat and staring out at the gloomy, dark grey sky. "What are they saying? I mean, I'm assuming they're talking about how ugly I am and…."

"No, Ruby Gloom, they aren't…_yet_," Mel added and Tabby was certain she could hear a smirk on her friend's lips. "I'm sure they will but who the fuck cares? You're the one banging his brains out. Am I right?" Tabby managed the ghost of a smile at this and let out a sigh.

"I know I was supposed to expect it and I guess I should be glad I'm not exactly at the point where I'm attracting small moons into my orbit but…it's weird…I never thought of being _watched_," Tabby grumbled, rubbing at the ache that had just begun in her ribs.

"Well it's kinda like being a celeb. I mean, not Lady GaGa or anything," Mel laughed.

"I don't want to be like Brangelina," Tabby moaned, "I just want to be with the man that…," a lump formed in her throat as she thought of the way Sidney had held her hand and kissed her before he got out of the car. It made her heart skip a beat every time he told her that he loved her. "I want to be with the man love," she finished, in time to hear Mel gagging at the other end of the line.

"I'm sure Sid will know how to handle it. Hey, maybe you'll have like a whole crew, a bunch of gorillas to protect you. That would be cool," Mel laughed but Tabby didn't. It sounded too much like a possibility.

* * *

"No."

"The best thing to do is get in front of it," Pat insisted but Sidney just shook his head.

"I'm not discussing my private life with Ron McLean or anyone else. That's why they call it a _private_ life, because it's none of their fucking business." Sid paced the dressing room, his teeth grinding as thought about having to sit in front of a camera and explain why he was 'living in sin' as his agent had just so succinctly put it. After all, that hadn't been his choice. If he'd been given a choice….

"You have to remember this isn't just about you Sid. This is about your girlfriend too. I don't want to speak for her but I can imagine I'd rather have the truth out there than a lot of lies and speculation." Sidney stopped pacing and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was developing a migraine, mostly because he knew Pat was right. This wasn't just about him and it wasn't even just about Tabs anymore. The kid was going to grow up and he didn't want his son surfing the internet and finding who knows what kind of lies about his mother.

"You're right. I fucking hate it, but you're right and the CBC _is_ probably the most professional way to go with it. Just…just let me fucking break it to Tabs before we put anything in stone," he sighed and began pacing again.

"There's just one thing we're going to have to address before we go public with this," Pat's tone made it clear that whatever he was about to say, Sid wasn't going to like it. So he sat down on the bench and pressed his forehead into his hand.

"I think the cat's kinda out of the bag, don't you?" Sid grumbled.

"Yeah, but you have a certain…," Pat paused and Sid knew it wasn't for dramatic effect. He really wasn't going to like what was coming next. "You've got that clause in your promotional contract with the league."

"Aaaah fuck." He could see the clause in his mind's eye, the fine print. It hadn't seemed like such a big deal when he'd just been turning eighteen and still had a healthy fear of women in general and puck bunnies in particular. He'd never imagined himself being in the position where a morals clause would even come up. He hardly ever touched Sudafed, never mind recreational drugs and he'd always been careful about using protection…until Tabby and then that whole mess afterwards….

"I'm sorry to bring it up kiddo but I think we'll need to address it with the league before you sit down with Ron." Sidney's stomach sank and his shoulders slumped. That would mean a call to Bettman and that was going to be worse than telling Troy. Ten times worse.

"I will," he promised with a sigh. "After I talk to Tabs…I will, I promise."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 26

Tabby made a face at her phone as yet another Trina sent another sarcastic text. She deleted the text and then dropped her phone to the bottom of her purse as she pulled the Land Rover into the driveway and reached for the garage door opener. As she aimed the controller at the front of the house, she noticed a woman standing near the front door.

"What the fuck…?" Throwing the car into park she left it running in case she had to make a quick getaway. "If this is a reporter I swear I'm going to…." She dug into her purse for the can of pepper spray that Mel had bought her as a going away present. To keep puck bunnies away she'd said. "Puck bunny, reporter…same thing," Tabby grinned to herself as she stepped out of the SUV. "Can I help you?" she called out, careful to keep her distance. The woman looked up from her iPhone, tilted her head to the side and regarded her with narrowed eyes.

"Who are you?"

"I live here," Tabby replied, careful not to give the stranger any particularly pertinent information.

"Is _he_ home?" the woman asked, with a glance towards the double front doors that they never used.

"No," Tabby replied, maybe a little too quickly but as she looked at the woman's jeans that were a little too tight, with her obvious push up bra, nasty looking dried out extensions and bright pink lipstick. This was definitely no reporter.

"So are you like…some kind of _friend_ of his?" the woman asked, crossing her arms across her chest and making a face, as if Tabby was the one who looked like a ten dollar street whore.

"No," Tabby lied, knowing full well that all the woman had to do was go on the net and she'd know it was a lie, but she did it anyway. "I'm his…his housekeeper."

"Yeah well…give him a message from me. Tell him thanks for the crabs." Tabby's hand tightened around the canister of pepper spray. She seriously considered using it on the stupid tart. She also seriously considered telling her that she'd just been up close and personal with Sidney's…bits, and they were clean as a whistle. She knew, they'd used a considerable amount of soap in the shower this morning.

"You must be mistaken. I don't know who you think lives here," Tabby began but the cheap whore rolled her eyes with their metallic blue eyeshadow and too much mascara and she pulled a face.

"Yeah, Sidney, totally lame in bed Crosby. So like I said, tell him thanks. Oh and tell him he's a total prick." The woman made a face towards the house and then she slowly made her way down the street.

'_She must have taken a bus here'_, Tabby thought uncharitably as she watched the woman wobble down the street in her high platform heels. "Crazy bitch," she added in a hiss as she tried to make herself turn back to the car but she couldn't get her feet to move.

It couldn't be true.

Yes, he had told her that he hadn't exactly been an angel but that? Tabby stared after the woman's retreating form and tried hard to swallow past the tension in her throat and chest. Not with a girl like that, she told herself. Maybe he'd been with a girl or two but not a girl like that. She couldn't see him being desperate enough to be with a tramp like that. And lame in bed? Tabby took a breath as she cracked the hint of a smile. That was something Sidney definitely was not.

The girl was just some pathetic, lying little hopeless puck bunny, she told herself as she went back to the SUV and moved it into the garage. She was nothing to worry about. She'd tell Sidney about it later and he'd laugh. They'd both have a good laugh about it and then she'd never worry about it again.

_You just have to get used to girls like that_, she told herself as she put the vehicle in park and turned off the ignition as she waited for the garage door to close behind her and as it did, she told herself to put it out of her mind. _She's nothing, no one_, she told herself as she headed back into the house just as her phone lit up with a text from Sid.

_Mtg after practice. Back u_

Tabby smiled and put her phone back in her purse. No, he'd never spend time with a tramp like that she decided once and for all and then shook her head at herself for even thinking he could, even for a minute.

* * *

"You had the opportunity to ask questions when you signed the contract. If you weren't clear on the clause…."

"I _was_ clear," Sid said for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I just didn't see myself in this…_situation_ at the time."

"While I'm sure that's true, you have to understand that we have a different expectation of the players that the league works exclusively with and that is why you have the benefit of demanding the types of appearance fees that you do." Sid forced himself to look up from his hands to the two faces staring back at him from Mario's computer screen, his agent, who, for the moment only raised an eyebrow as if to say 'I told you so' and the count from Sesame Street, Gary Bettman. There was a veiled threat behind the smile on the little troll's face and it took every ounce of will power that Sid had to not rise to it.

"Let's talk about some options," Pat suggested and Sid shot him a grateful look.

"If she were to live at another address," Bettman started to suggest and Sid found himself half way out of his seat and onto his feet, shaking his head, his blood pressure rising quickly.

"Not fucking happening," Sid growled, even as Mario pushed him back down into the chair.

"Don't be hasty Sidney," Mario suggested quietly. "She could live here," he indicated his vast home that was more like a palace in its' vast brick splendor. "Natalie and the girls could be a lot of help to her, especially when you're not in town," Mario added and it made sense but still Sid shook his head.

"No, no way. I haven't been without her this long just to have her live somewhere else," Sidney growled under his breath. He felt Mario's big hand dig into his shoulder and then he ruffled Sid's dark hair before returning to his side of his big mahogany desk.

"Well we don't want to rush you into anything," Pat continued, "but there's always a quickie Vegas wedding." Sid managed a smile but shook his head.

"Not now," he mumbled, shaking his head again as he returned to staring at the back of his hands, the scars on the back of his knuckles that looked like some kind of bad roadmap.

"Well that's a relief," Bettman interjected and Sid hid a wry smile.

"I do think we can all agree that Sidney has gone above and beyond the call of duty time and again. He's been at every event, made himself available every time he's been asked. I think, this once, if we can all keep this to ourselves for the time being, we can deal with this after the season ends," Mario suggested and again Sidney found himself giving his mentor a grateful smile.

"And if we make an exception once," Bettman began and Sidney found himself biting his tongue and looking to his agent for help.

"We didn't make any kind of exception for Patrick Kane," Bettman looked pleased with himself but Sidney snorted and Mario hid a grin behind his hand.

"Kane is a tool," Sidney grumbled. "He only cares about money and showgirls."

"What I think Sidney's trying to say is that he has made himself available on more occasions than any other player and we don't think that there is any fair comparison with any other player and with that in mind, I believe an exception can be made, don't you Gary?" Mario gave his best professional smile, the one he'd taught Sid to use on those occasions when you had to hide your true feelings behind a smile to get through the moment. Sid had used it many times since. He'd hardly ever seen Mario use it. "I think we all realize that mistakes happen but that Sid will do the right thing given the opportunity," Mario added with a quick glance towards his protégé who made himself still and kept his expression bland.

"Wellll," Gary got that uncomfortable smile on his face, the one he got when he was cornered by one of the owners or an unhappy fan. "I think we all have a major investment to protect here gentleman. I think we have to have some assurances that another event like we had today doesn't happen again before we can put together a plan of attack." Sid kept his gaze locked on his hands, trying his best to look diffident, but rolled his eyes. The Commissioner made it sound like the President of the United States had just been caught with a transvestite prostitute and they were getting ready for major spin control. Not that a twenty-three year old red blooded male was having a baby with a beautiful, single, available woman.

"I'm not going to ask her to hide in the house," Sidney said, sitting up and facing the screen, "and I'm not going to ask her to live somewhere else. I'm sorry if this makes some of my investors nervous and I'm sorry if you're all disappointed in me but I'm not pretending this isn't happening. If you want me to sign something that foregoes my endorsement payments for six months to charity or something as a fine, whatever, that's fine, but I'm not going to pretend that I'm not in a relationship."

The room fell silent and Sid looked across the big desk to Mario for back up and found his mentor smiling back at him, the same sort of smile he got on his face when Austin did something out on the ice that reminded him of himself, made him proud. With a slow nod, Mario turned his gaze back to the screen in front of them.

"I think we have our answer gentleman. It's a only a few days before Christmas and I don't think breaking up a family at Christmas is what any of us want to do so I think our part from here on in is to be as supportive as we can and as long as Sid lets us know ahead of time of any of his plans, we can help him make the most informed decisions he can make." Mario made it sound very final and neither Pat nor Gary so much as uttered another sound before Mario reached forward to hit the appropriate keys to end the video conference.

Sid sat, staring at the blank screen, feeling a little like he'd just won a game in overtime. He felt a little wrung out, but happy with the outcome.

"I'd say you won that round," Mario leaned his chair back and steepled his fingers as he gazed across the desk. Sid met his gaze with a relieved smile that only wavered a little at the edges as he remembered that he was still going to have to deal with the media about today.

"You've always said to stick as close to the truth as possible," Sidney answered quietly, "_and_ that family comes first."

"I also told you to always use protection. I'm glad you to hear you at least listen some of the time."

* * *

Curiosity killed the cat, Tabby reminded herself as she surfed yet another website that seemed to be dedicated, for the most part, to slanging Sidney and his teammates as man-whores, male sluts and worse. The boys on the Pens, it seemed, had rather bad reputations.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm home."

Tabby felt the brush of his lips at the nape of her neck and quickly shut down the site she was looking at before she turned around to watch him launch himself onto the bed, sending her laptop bouncing precariously near the edge of the mattress. Closing her lap top, she slid it beneath the bed before crawling up to join him, curling her body up next to his and laying her head on his chest.

"So, how was your meeting? Mario freaking out about the pk again?" she asked, tracing invisible patterns on his chest with her fingertip.

"Mostly we were talking about you," he replied, causing her to push herself up on her elbows so she could look him in the eye.

"Me?" Sid smiled slowly, reaching up to brush his fingertips down her cheek until the pad of his thumb came to rest on her bottom lip and then he pulled that down so that she was looked like she felt, a full on pout coming on.

"Yep," he smiled as she threatened to bite his thumb. "Everyone's pretty worried about you getting your wicked fingers hooked into me," he added, lifting himself onto his elbows so he could press his lips to hers'. It wasn't fair, Tabby thought as he kissed her deeply. It was hard to stay worried about anything when he was kissing her. "I even had to pay a pretty hefty fine because of you," he continued as they came up for air and at this Tabby grabbed his handsome face in her hands and stared down at him.

"What do you mean you had to pay a fine?"

"It's called a morals clause," he replied nonchalantly, almost like he was enjoying her concern. "I mean, we _are_ living in sin and you _are_ pregnant with my love child." Tabby's mouth fell open and she blinked at him in disbelief.

"What the fuck is that about? We're not in the fucking _dark ages_," she howled, backing up onto her knees and moving to straddle him, which only made his satisfied grin wider. "Don't grin at me like that! How can they get away with that? That can't even be legal."

"Hey, hey," he chuckled at her outrage and that made Tabby even angrier, but when she opened her mouth to continue her rampage, he just shook his head at her.

"I don't care about a million bucks in endorsements. That's like…I don't know, a tenth of what I'm gonna make this year. It doesn't matter. What matters is that they back off, and you're here and not living at Mario and Nathalie's," he explained, reaching for her and placing his hands over the swell of her stomach. "That you and Steven are here with me." Tabby narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips.

"First of all, I like Mario's place and Nathalie is an absolute sweetheart. And," she added quickly before he could argue, "and, there is _no way_ this baby is being named Steven."

"My favorite player was Steve Yzerman," he explained, but Tabby just shook her head and then went to lean forward, only to be stopped, mid bend, by an unexpected pain that took her breath away for a moment. She stared down at Sidney who stared right back at her, his eyes as wide as hers felt.

"Holy shit! What was that?" he asked, his hands still on her stomach, now with hers' over top of them.

"A kick, I think," Tabby replied slowly, moving his hand down to where she could still feel something solid pressed against her insides. She'd felt things, fluttering, wave like motions and what the doctor had termed 'quickening' which had felt more like 'tummy rumbling or bad gas, but this…this was definitely something else. For a long moment nothing happened and Tabby was about to let go of his hand when suddenly there it was again, and this time she was sure of what she felt through both of their hands.

"Holy…wow," Sid said softly, his gaze riveted to their joined hands, to the spot their son had just given another significant boot to.

"I'd say he's gonna be a placekicker for the Steelers," Tabby grinned and Sidney just noted, mutely, before carefully gathering her onto his lap and holding her close. When she leaned in to press her lips to his cheek she tasted salt and found that she was kissing away a tear. "Hey," she whispered, snuggling close, "what's this about?"

"I won't let anyone or anything take you from me. Either of you," he whispered, holding her tight.

Tabby closed her eyes and let herself melt into his arms. She decided that now wasn't the time to ask about the strange visitor she'd had earlier and instead concentrated on listening to Sidney's heart beat in time with hers', on breathing and this strange new feeling of their son stretching and kicking inside of her. _Family_, she thought silently as she felt Sid's arms tighten around her; _our family_.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 27

"Merry Christmas everyone!"

Where he'd got the elf outfit, Sid was almost frightened to ask but he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Cookie in green tights. Even better was the sight of his wife, Michelle, in a matching red outfit. Ever since Gonch had signed with the Sens and the club had decided not to resign Billy G, Cookie had taken on the role of the grizzled veteran and over all father figure so it was nice to see him in his more natural role of cut up. He couldn't be the class clown. After all, that role had long belonged to Max. At least since Army left.

The sight of 'Santa's little helpers', however, recharged the waves of nausea emanating from his stomach. Tabby's parents and brother had arrived this morning. His parents would be somewhere in the building and he'd have to bring them home. Normally spending Christmas day with his parents was something he looked forward to. Not today.

"Cheer up, might never happen." Cookie grinned as he handed him a box tied with a lime green ribbon. Sid stared down at the present and sighed. "Hey," Cookie leaned in and hissed in Sid's ear, "not that there's anything wrong with it, but if you really don't want to deal with having a kid, I know a guy who knows a guy if you know what I mean." Sid knew he was joking but he also knew that his old man was likely to say, if not exactly the same words, something at least similar and it he felt his entire body tense in response.

"Sure, we can have her kidnapped and sell her to some sheik in Arabia or something," Jordan added unhelpfully. He'd bitten his tongue, over and over, knowing that some of the guys just said shit, that it didn't mean they believed what they were saying, that it was just hazing and that he needed to let it roll off his back. But after what Bettman had said, had threatened to force him to do, Sid's patience had been worn thin.

"I can't wait," he said simply, looking first Cookie and then Jordan in the eye. "I can't wait to be a father."

"If your father lets you live long enough to see that day," Jordan reminded him and Sid felt the tension in his body grow.

"Hey, Joyeux Noël," Max interjected, "let the guy breathe. Can't you see he's in love?" Sid aimed a grateful smile his friend's way even as his shoulders drooped as he worried about what his father was going to say. He'd begged his mother to pave the way, to break the news to his father. She'd been thrilled, of course. He just wished everyone could be a little more fucking positive about his situation. "Are you going to open that?" Sid stared down at the box. A quick look around the room told him everyone was either getting the same thing, or at least something similar, so, with a shrug, he tugged at one end of the ribbon.

The ribbon fell away and he slid his finger beneath the tape, planning to carefully open it, only to have Jordan grab the package out of his hands. Sid and Max exchanged a furtive grin and shook their heads as the tall blonde ripped into the paper like an impatient and excited three year old on Christmas morning.

"Hey, I got a fucking iPod. This is cooool."

Sid stared at the object in his friend's hand, but even tilting his head from one side to the other didn't make it any clearer what Jordan was holding.

"Give it to him, sheeit." Cookie grabbed at what was in Jordan's hand, pulled it out and pressed it into Sid's hand. It was cool to the touch and surprisingly heavy for something so small.

"Wow," he said quietly as he turned over the solid silver rattle, listening to the musical sounds coming from it as engraved words caught his eye. He traced the letters with the pad of his thumb, his initials linked with Tabby's on one rounded end of the rattle and just the word baby at the other end. "Thanks guys." He felt a little choked up as he raised his gaze to meet Cookie's.

"I know we've been giving you hard time," Cookie began.

"But we're all fucking proud of you for doing the right thing. Plus, we like Tabs, she's good for you," Max completed the thought and Sid found himself unable to say another word.

* * *

"Nice score sis." Tabby raised a single eyebrow at her brother and he just grinned at her as she took his empty plate and headed for the kitchen. "When do I get to move in?"

"Leave your sister alone," her mother sighed, getting up to follow her daughter into the kitchen. "It is a _very_ nice house," she agreed with her son as she took the plate out of Tabby's hands before she could put it directly into the dishwasher.

"I don't love him because he's rich mom," Tabby said quietly and her mother merely shrugged as she went over to the kitchen sink to wash the plate before it went into the dishwasher.

"Still, I never thought you'd land on your feet quite this nicely," her mother replied as she turned back to hand her daughter the plate. Tabby thought about just putting it in the cupboard, just to see what her mother would do, but reminded herself that it was Christmas and things were already stressful enough without intentionally starting something. She told herself that her mother couldn't help the way she was. That didn't mean she had to like it though.

"Things could still go horrifically wrong mom," Tabby answered thoughtfully, thinking about that woman in the driveway. The one she still hadn't asked Sidney about.

"Yes I'd noticed he hasn't put a ring on your finger," her mother answered dryly, with a meaningful glance toward Tabby's naked hand as she reached for a glass in the cupboard. Tabby flinched and withdrew her hand, switching the glass to her right hand as she did.

"Mom, don't be old fashioned," Tabby snapped before ducking her head into the fridge to hide her expression while she swore under her breath.

"I know you're going to tell me that people don't do that anymore, but they do," her mother told her firmly while Tabby rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. "Especially young men like Sidney who have a reputation to protect," her mother added as if she'd practiced the speech and Tabby was willing to bet she had, on her father no doubt, on the plane, all the way to Pittsburgh.

"Don't you start too," Tabby mumbled as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. It gave her wicked heartburn but she'd been craving it lately. "The fucking league told him the same thing, and I can't believe they think they have the right to tell us what to do, so…just leave it, okay mom?"

"You almost sound like you don't want to marry the boy?" Her mother made it a question and raised her eyebrow as she regarded her daughter with a look that clearly said she didn't and wouldn't believe that was true and of course it wasn't but her mother was honestly the last person Tabby wanted to talk to about this.

"The whole marriage thing is just some kind of convention anyway," Tabby lied while doing her best to sound convincing while she also did her best to keep her expression neutral. "You know I've never been that girl pouring through Bridal magazines planning her wedding down to the last detail. I don't really care. Besides, I'm as big as a planet. I was just saying that to Sidney…I could totally have moons orbiting me now," she added, brushing her hand over her swollen mid section. "Were you this big when you were having me?" she asked her mother, artfully changing the subject.

"Not with you, with your brother, maybe," her mother replied, falling for it, or dropping the subject while she moved forward to place her hands on either side of her daughter's belly button and started into her other favorite subject of the day, the horrors of stretch marks and child birth while Tabby did her best to smile and nod and act like a dutiful daughter.

* * *

"I told you to go ahead and get into her pants son, not make her pants bigger." Sid tried his best not to roll his eyes as his father gave him one of those paternal pats on the back. '_And he wonders why I never brought girls home,' _Sid thought as he nodded, all the while biting down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from telling his old man just where and how hard to shove his opinions about his girlfriend and her condition. At least he didn't seem pissed off about it, which Sidney felt marginally positive about. Glancing over at where his mother was now peeking into the oven, he felt worse for Tabby. This was a lot to ask, entertaining both his family and hers', especially with the way she'd been feeling.

She'd pronounced herself officially ready to have moons in orbit around her stomach just the day before, staring at herself in the mirror after getting out of the shower. He couldn't exactly remember from biology what stage Tabby was at or what it should or should not look like. All he knew was that her skin had this sort of glow about it, and that her breasts were full, firm and high and even with the swell of her stomach that was now taking on an almost translucent look as her skin stretched to accommodate their child nestled in her belly, he still wanted her.

Even now, watching her wary eyes following the conversation between their two mothers, part of him wanted to drag her into their bed and lay her down and place himself between her thighs with her ripe belly pressed against his flat one, her legs over his arms. He wanted to nestle his cock deep inside of her and hear her sigh, watch her fingers twist the sheets as she gripped the quilt, watch her bite down on her full bottom lip until she couldn't hold back any longer and her eyes flutter shut as she cried out his name.

"Earth to Sidney, come in Sidney." Blinking back to reality, Sidney stared at his sister while she rolled her eyes at him. "Wow…you really have it bad huh?" He didn't reply. He knew he didn't need to. He didn't have much of a poker face. "So have you asked her yet or what?"

"Asked her…what?" he took the bag of brightly wrapped packages out of his sibling's hands and turned to begin stowing them under the tree, where they'd stay until after dinner.

"Okay, be obtuse, whatever" Taylor landed on the couch like she thought it was a trampoline and it was Sidney's turn to shake his head at her. "I mean, I'm assuming this is the one you were shacking up with back home, then I'm guessing this is more than just hot sex." Sidney glanced up from the presents he was stacking and gave her a look that he hoped made it pretty clear that he wasn't up to discussing his private life with his little sister. "I mean, I guess it doesn't _look_ like she's got a gun to your head or anything," Taylor continued without waiting for an answer,

"She hasn't, no one has," Sidney hissed under his breath. He was getting a little tired of everyone assuming that Tabby had somehow 'trapped' him by getting pregnant. He was pretty sure that if anyone had the right to feel that way, it was Tabby. "For your information, I love her and I'm happy that she got pregnant, okay?" He shot his younger sibling a dark, and he hoped threatening look which she blithely ignored, as she often did.

"So if you love her so much how come you haven't put a ring on it?" Sidney's hand paused, mid air, above one of the gaily wrapped packages and he turned to glare at his sister. "What? I'm just trying to look out for my niece or nephew. I mean, I think being born a bastard is still pretty déclassé, don't you think?"

"I don't think people really care about that, no," he replied slowly, his hand hovering over the small box wrapped in metallic silver paper with the sapphire blue ribbon.

"Oh well, as long as you don't ask her in front of all of us," Taylor added, making a retching noise and sticking her finger down her throat.

"Would there be something wrong with that?" Sidney asked, picking up the small box and weighing it in his hand.

"Yeah, _totally_," his sister replied as she got back up to her feet and stretched, her hands over her head. "Like, way to put a girl in a position where she looks like a total bitch if she says no in front of everyone right? Like you're forcing her to say yes," she added with a yawn. "Not that I'm saying she'd turn you down bro but… anyway, it's not very original either," she added with a grin before turning on her heel and heading out of the room. Sidney stared after his sibling and then looked down at the diminutive package in his hand.

Taylor was probably right, Sidney thought bleakly as he withdrew the package from beneath the tree. It might seem like he wasn't sure of her answer, which he wasn't, he thought as he sat back on his heels and stared up at the tree with its twinkling lights and gold star on its uppermost branch. Vero was always bugging Flower for a ring. Jordan's highschool sweetheart Heather had practically threatened to cut his dick off if he didn't propose. Tabby…she never said anything. Not a single hint. She didn't so much as leave a copy of a bridal magazine in the bathroom for him to find.

She loved him. He believed that. But maybe she didn't want to marry him. Being a realist, Sidney was beginning to think that he had to face that as possibility and so, for the third, or was it the fourth time, he pocketed the small package and dragged himself to his feet as he heard his mother calling him from the kitchen.


	29. Chapter 29

_this doesn't happen too often, back to back chapters on back to back days, but hey! when a girl has an evil plan the words just all come in a rush_

Chapter 28

"I can't believe you finally made it!" If it had not been for her general size and the fact that her back was aching, her ankles were swollen and she had to pee, Tabby would have launched herself into her friends' arms. As it was, Mel and Trina gathered her into a group hug and all of them jumped up and down and squealed like happy pigs rolling in mud.

"We thought we'd give you Christmas day with your folks at least," Mel replied finally, after they had disengaged themselves only enough to link arms as they walked through the arrival terminal. "So, did you get some good prezzies? I don't see a ring on it yet?" Tabby groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Oops," Trina laughed, sharing a grim glance across Tabby's body with Mel. "Looks like you've hit a sore spot there."

"It's not…I mean…I don't care…not really," Tabby began, not really sure if she was trying to make herself believe it or her friends. "It's just…well I'll show you when we get back to the car but, let's put it this way, I don't think that he's used to buying stuff for women."

"Uh oh, sounds like someone's in the dog house for more than not putting a ring on it," Trina snorted as they found their way out onto the sidewalk where a long, black stretch limo was waiting. Mel slid in first, with Tabby crawling in after her and Trina following, tucking her long legs beneath her on the plush bench as the driver closed the door behind them.

"Look at this," Tabby sighed, grabbing a bag she'd left on the floor of the limo out of which she pulled a black lacey teddy, and not the kind of scratchy cheap nylon kind from Fredericks but a well made basque from Agent Provocateur with intricate embroidery and sexy sheer mesh paneling. Both Mel and Trina whistled but Tabby continued to look as nonplussed as she had when she'd pulled it out of the box on Christmas night. "What's wrong with this picture?" she asked, holding it up to herself so that it was painfully obvious that the provocative piece was not made for a pregnant woman.

"Well maybe he was thinking about _after_ the baby's born," Mel suggested, a hopeful tone in her voice that suggested she didn't really believe a word of it.

"This would never have fit me _before_ I became a beached whale," Tabby moaned, stuffing the offensive piece bag in the bag.

"I'll have it," Trina grinned, making a grab for the bag. For a moment Tabby held the bag just out of her friend's reach, but then shrugged and handed it to her.

"Jordan _has_ been looking forward to getting back at you for leaving him handcuffed and naked for all his teammates to see. Maybe that will keep you from being punished too severely," she added with a chuckle and a shake of her head. Trina just grinned wider, which caused both Mel and Tabby to roll their eyes.

"So don't tell me that was _all_ he got you?" Mel asked and Tabby shook her head as she held out her hand. "Oooh, pretty!" Mel took Tabby's right hand and both she and Trina bent over it, examining the gold band and the three stones set in it.

"My birth stone, his and an aquamarine for the baby," Tabby explained as her two friends gushed over the size of the stones and the thickness of the band.

"That's gorgeous," Trina exclaimed as she sat back. "Not an engagement ring, but really nice."

"And expensive looking," Mel added, giving Tabby an encouraging smile. As if it mattered how much he'd spent on it. At least it didn't to Tabby.

"But you should have seen my face," Tabby explained as she ran her thumb over the stones and thought about how hard her heart had beat when he'd pulled out the small Tiffany blue box with its' patented silver bow and put it in her hand. "I thought…I mean if you'd seen the box, you would have thought so too, right?" Tabby searched her friends' faces and both of them nodded and looked appropriately sympathetic. "I mean, it's so stupid, because you know me. I'm not the bling bilng girl and I've never wanted the big white wedding or any of that shit. That's not me but…but when I saw the box and my mom had been going on and on about how we should be married…I just assumed and then…and then this," she sighed, running her hand over the stones again.

"It's super pretty but _really_ disappointing," Trina filled in the words that Tabby hadn't said out loud and a silence fell over the group of women until Tabby felt Mel's hand on her arm.

"Maybe, after the whole 'break' thing, he's just taking the time to make sure that you two are solid," she suggested and Tabby nodded. That was very like what she'd been telling herself. The problem was, she hadn't managed to convince herself yet.

"Or maybe he's like Prince William and he's going to make you hang around for seven years," Trina added skeptically, earning her dark looks from both Mel and Tabby. "What? I'm just saying it's a possibility. Don't jump down my throat. He's the one that gave you that," she said, pointing to the three stoned ring on Tabby's hand, "instead of a five carat diamond."

"Maybe I should phone Jordan and make sure he doesn't bring the fuzzy cuffs," Tabby grumbled but Trina just grinned back at her.

"That's okay, I brought my crop and a paddle and…."

"Don't," Tabby squealed, holding up her hands and squeezing her eyes shut against the image that had sprung into her mind's eye of the big blonde forward with rosy ass cheeks. "Don't tell me anymore. I don't want to hear it."

"Mmm, I wonder if Johnnie's into any of that?" Mel asked as if she was thinking out loud and the girls fell into a fit of giggles.

* * *

"So, did you do it?"

Sidney glanced up from the text he'd just gotten on his blackberry as Flower dropped into the seat next to him on the plane and shook his head.

"And don't look all smug," Sid admonished the dark haired goaltender when Marc grinned. "I didn't chicken out and it has nothing to do with that whole macho French thing you and Max were going on about, making her sweat either," Sid added glumly. "I just…it wasn't the right time, that's all."

"So mon ami, what is that now, une fois, est que deux fois que tu ne l'as pas demandé de t'épouser?" Marc manages, just, not to laugh as he poses the question that makes Sid slump further down in his seat.

"I couldn't ask her in front of everyone…what if she'd said no?"

"Tabby?" Sid looked up to find Max peeking over the top of the seat in front of him with a quizzical look on his face. "She's your baby momma, of course she's going to say yes…or is that oui, ah oui, oh Sidney oui!" Rolling his eyes at Max's sex noises, Sidney looked back down at his blackberry.

"Well she has her friends in town now, so unless I do something for New Years…."

"Friends? What friends?" It was now Jordan's turn to peek over the seats, this time from behind Marc, looking like an eager puppy.

"Yeah, those friends," Sidney sighed out loud, holding his phone up so that Jordan could get a good view of the photo that Tabby had just sent of her and her two buddies at the Penguins store, stocking up on jerseys. He hoped it had been taken in a dressing room, considering that in Trina's case, she looked to be wearing very little besides a pair of knee high boots and Jordan's jersey.

"Daaamn," Gronk groaned and disappeared from view, with Sidney's phone.

"Why not do something for New Year's? We'll be in New York right? Bring her up there, go to some fancy restaurant, drop the ring in some champagne…." Max suggested while both Flower and Tanger rolled their eyes and made gagging noises.

"Ne l'écoute pas," Kris mumbled, shaking his head at Max, which made his hair fall into his dark eyes "He only dates whores. What does he know about romance, au sujet a courtiser une jolie femme?"

"Je suis très romantique! Nous Québécois savent tous sur les romantisme!" Max argued and that started an argument between defenseman and the forward that Sidney decided to ignore. Neither of them had ever had a steady, real relationship as far as he knew. There was little point in listening to either of them.

"Do you _want_ to marry her?" Marc asked as Sidney reached for PSP, hoping that a game of Medal of Honor, killing some people, even hypothetically might help him feel better.

"Yeah," was his one word answer, though it came out more as a grunt than an actual word.

"Then just ask her mon ami, et je pense que Max et raison, je crois qu'elle va dire oui."

* * *

"_This _is your place?" Trina had the window rolled down and had stuck her head out into the breeze as the limo pulled into the driveway.

"I know, it's _way_ too big for just us. Even when he's born, there's too much room. I'm terrified of what hide and seek will mean in this palace," Tabby replied with a sigh as she rubbed at her stomach. Junior had been playing hacky sack with her bladder for most of the ride home.

"Yeah but it's nice," Mel chimed in as the limo slowed to a stop. "I mean, other than the hooker on the corner," she added, scrunching up her nose as she peered out the opposite window.

"Hooker?" Tabby slid down the seat to look. "Please don't tell me it's that girl again," she added, half under her breath.

"You guys don't have gates?" Trina hissed as she slid out of the car and stood, staring at the woman who was standing near the front door of the house, staring back at them.

"There was but Sidney wanted some higher ones and then there was a problem with the contractor…you don't want to know," Tabby mumbled, leaving her bags behind for the driver to retrieve as she took Mel's hand and allowed her friends to help pull her out of the car. "This had better be good. I have to pee." Grumbling curse words under her breath, she strode towards the woman, but stopped when she realized what was just behind her, a stroller. "Oh holy fuck," she hissed, stopping dead in her tracks, about ten feet away.

This woman had the same sort of cheap look about her that the last one had, with obviously dyed black hair and cheap, dry looking hair extensions that fell to the middle of her back. Unlike the first one, this woman had nicer clothes, designer jeans that looked like they were painted on and an expensive looking leather jacket. She was wearing too much make up, Tabby thought, lipstick a shade too bright, and the kind of false eyelashes that made her eyes look like they were ringed by spider's legs.

"Hey bitch, you're on private property," Trina called out, making herself useful. The woman didn't even flinch. '_She is a hard faced cunt'_ Tabby thought as tried to peer around her to see what was in the stroller.

"You're her, aren't you?" the woman asked, her gaze focused entirely on Tabby. For a moment it felt a lot like she was being given that once over that a man usually gives, that whole up and down while he undresses you with his eyes. Except the woman in front of them raked her gaze over her like she ripping off her skin with a sharp blade. Tabby shivered. "You are," the woman decided with an evil looking smirk. "He wanted to call me something…some name." She looked thoughtful for a moment and then her nasty looking grin widened. "Tabby, am I right?"

Tabby heard Mel gasp behind her and she was sure she could hear Trina's knuckles cracking beside her. For herself, she could only hear the sound of her own heart, beating hard and quickly, in her ears. Her first thought, when she managed to catch her breath, was 'don't answer that'. Her second thought was '_I'm going to kill her and then I'm going to kill him, slowly and painfully'_. She didn't say either of those things.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" she asked, hoping that she sounded cooler and calmer than she felt.

"Is that his?" the woman asked, ignoring Tabby's question and pointing at her swollen midsection. Tabby's hands went protectively around her stomach but she didn't answer the question. She just stared back at the woman who was sneering at her. "I guess he didn't want to use protection with you either huh?"

"I'm going to ask you this one more time, bitch," Tabby said carefully, taking a deep breath as she did. "Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?" The woman continued to smile, that cat that got the canary look on her face that made Tabby's skin crawl.

"I have a message for Sidney," the woman grinned, showing teeth that weren't exactly straight, red lipstick on the tips of her two front teeth. She moved around behind the stroller and brought out a large, manila envelope. "You'll make sure he gets it, won't you sweetie?" she said, sarcasm dripping from her tongue like honey from a spatula. Tabby stared at the official looking stamp on the front of the envelope and found that her feet would not move. She felt Mel reach for her hand, but she couldn't make her fingers uncurl from the fists they were clenched in. She found herself staring, mute, as the woman pushed the buggy towards them until she could look down at the contents, at a round little face that looked up at her from beneath a pink blanket with bunnies and kitties all over it.

Trina reached out and snatched the envelope from the woman's hand but Tabby never looked at her again. She couldn't drag her attention off of the tiny bundle. Not until the buggy rolled down the driveway to a car waiting on the street, an older, five liter mustang that had seen better days.

"I'll kill him," she said quietly, as she watched the woman load the tiny child into an infant seat. "I'll fucking kill him."


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 29

"What happened? How is she?" Sid skidded around the corner with Max, Jordan and Flower close on his heels, his phone still in his hand. All of the boys were still in their suits, having come straight from the airport.

"Her blood pressure spiked, there was some bleeding," Tabby's friend Trina replied in a matter-of-fact tone of voice from where she stood beside the hospital bed. "They have her on Nifedipine and magnesium sulfate to stop the contractions."

"Contractions?" Sid stared down at the text he'd received as the plane had landed. It still read _**Tabby's at Sewickley Valley Hospital. Come as soon as you can. **_

"There was a girl…a woman, I guess…I mean, really she was more of a tramp," Mel began only to be cut off by Trina, who's arms were crossed and she was wearing a scowl on her face that said that she was ready to defend her friend, which meant somehow he had done something wrong.

"This _whore_ was waiting at the house, with a baby in a stroller and some papers requesting child support. You can see how that might be upsetting," Trina hissed, tilting her head to one side and regarding him with pursed lips that said she wanted to say more but wouldn't because of the very still form swaddled in the blankets on the bed between the raised security bars with wires running from at least half a dozen places on her chest and an ominous looking belt strapped across her belly with some kind of monitoring device on it. Her face was turned away from his. Sid felt a tightening in his chest. He had hardly been able to breathe the entire way here and it hadn't just been Max's driving that had his own blood pressure sky rocketing. But now…now he was scared.

"I don't…that can't be right," he muttered, but it wasn't as hard as it should have been for his imagination to conjure up visions of a line of women with bundles of joy waiting for him with orders for payment in their hands, except…. "Tabby was the first woman I ever had unprotected sex with." He looked pleadingly towards the two women who were standing on the other side of the hospital bed beside the monitors that were emitting beeping and chirping noises that were starting to make his head hurt. Her friends looked back at him with cold expressions.

"You said first…so there _have_ been others?" Her more diminutive friend asked after a stretch of charged silence. The back of Sid's neck itched.

"To quote Ross Geller, they were on a break," Max interjected, though Sidney shot him a warning look. That wasn't going to help and it wasn't even a good excuse.

"After she…when we broke up…I was angry, I was hurt," he tried to explain, rubbing at the spot at the back of his neck that felt like it had been zapped with an electrical charge.

"You said there was un bébé, un enfant reel?" MAF asked quietly, rubbing thoughtfully at his soul patch as he regarded the women on the other side of the room seriously. Both nodded as they turned their attention to the lean goalie. "If Sidney says he did not sleep with anyone before Tabitha, then cet enfant cannot be his. Le calcul ne fonctionne pas."

"He's right," Max agreed, a little too enthusiastically. "If she was un des ces putains he's been with, then she would have been _less_ pregnant than Tabs, not more."

"Don't help guys," Sidney breathed, his gut lurching into his throat at the thought of that dark time and the things he did. He hadn't been proud of it then. He was sick to his stomach at the thought of it now.

"How many?" It took a moment for him to realize where the voice was coming from. It was muffled and seemed almost disembodied but the cool gazes of her two friends told him that it had been neither of them that had posed the question. "How many have there been?" she asked again, this time turning to face him with exhausted, red rimmed eyes.

"Guys, can we have some privacy?" he asked softly, pleading silently with her for the chance to explain, even though he didn't feel like there was going to be words enough to deserver her forgiveness.

* * *

For a moment, just hearing his voice had made her feel calmer, made her think things were going to be alright. But then she remembered the woman looking at her with shrewd eyes that seemed to know too much and in her mind's eye she saw her thin red lips forming her own name and her threatened tightened around the huge ball of emotion that was restricting her breathing. She heard the beeps and chirps on the machines quicken. They seemed to get louder and she tried to remind herself to breathe slowly and deeply. Closing her eyes she imagined the child within her and told herself to relax, for him.

"I'll make a call," he was saying as she heard the footsteps of their friends retreating out into the hall. "I'll get the gate done today and we'll get a security company to have someone outside the gates," he was promising, but Tabby squeezed her eyes shut against the sorrow in his voice and the way it was making her feel, like that mattered. Like that could somehow undo what had already been done.

"How many Sidney?" she asked again, opening her eyes, though they stung from the tears she'd shed. Tears for herself, for fear of losing their child, of having lost him already, or at least the part of him that felt special to her, that she had naively believed was hers'.

"I don't know," he replied hoarsely, moving closer, until he was almost at her bedside, but not quite, like he was afraid to come closer to all the wires and all the machines, or maybe to her.

"Two? Ten?" she asked as tears welled in her eyes. Not that it mattered, she told herself, if it was one or twenty-one. The result was still the same.

"I don't know," he repeated, "maybe five…six, I don't know. I wasn't counting," he muttered, his head hung low, shoulders drooping and the tips of his ears were bright red. At least he had the capacity to be ashamed.

"I don't even care that you did…what you did," she told him, though her voice felt and sounded strangled by that damned ball of emotion in her throat. "I can't believe you'd risk not just me but our child." She barely got the word out before it was chased by a sob.

"I'm sorry," he managed, reaching over the safety bar that was there to stop her from rolling out of bed she supposed. He grabbed her hand, and clutched it hard, maybe too hard. It felt like the bones in her hand were being crushed to a fine powder but that didn't hurt as much as the thought of some kind of petulance, some form of plague hiding in her body, eating at their child.

"It's not just the clap or gonorrhea," she sniffed, looking up into his gold flecked eyes to find tears brimming in his eyes as well. "It's HIV…AIDS. Maybe you don't care about yourself but…the baby…." Her free hand had not left the swell of her stomach since the cramps had started after watching that woman go. She willed him to kick and felt an answering roll and stretch that eased her overwhelming fear, for a moment at least.

"I care," he insisted, his eyes wide and pleading, a single tear sliding down his cheek as his other hand wrapped around the hand that she was sure he was breaking. "I'll take any test you want, I'm clean, I promise. I wouldn't do that, ever. I ove you," he added more quietly, "both of you." His gaze slid to her stomach, for a moment, and then, as his gaze met hers again, his eyes were wild with fear. "Is…is everything alright?" For a brief, dark moment, it occurred to Tabby that she could hurt him if she lied. She could tell him no, that everything was definitely not alright. She could tell him that they'd lost the baby. That maybe then he'd understand how she felt. But she could not, would not tempt fate that way.

"They say it will be okay, if I rest and," she added, steeling her gaze and raising her chin, "if I don't have any more shocks. Will I, do you think?" He shook his head, vehemently, in denial, but when she raised her eyebrows at him he shrugged.

"I guess I can't promise that…but…," he dropped his gaze from hers and sighed. "I'm sorry. It's bad enough when shit like this happens to me but I didn't prepare you for this and even though I'm sure, _sure_ that it's not true…I'm still sorry."

"She knew my name Sidney," she said quietly, her voice small and almost indistinct because it was the hardest thing to say. It was the part that made her the most afraid that it was all true. He raised his gaze, fear infusing his eyes with panic. "Why did she know my name?"

* * *

He didn't know how to answer that question. He knew the answer to the question, just not how to explain it without making it sound seedy and repulsive, which it was. To sleep with other women, random strangers and to pretend that they were her…as if she could be replaced, his stomach heaved.

He could lie, say he didn't know but there was already too much of that between them, a wall that he had only begun to break down, that he'd only started to be able to see over to that sweetness, that innocence that they'd shared in the summer. If he lied now, if he added to the lies he'd told, the half truths and the omissions he'd told himself weren't as bad as lies, he'd only be adding more building blocks to the wall, making it higher and more impossible to get over.

"If I did sleep with her…," his voice trailed off as anger and mistrust flickered in her dark eyes. _If_…he shook his head. That made it sound like he doubted the truth of it. Dissembling, wasn't that just as much of a lie? "Some of the girls…the women I fucked, because that was all that it was, fucking, meaningless one night stands." He held her gaze, hoping she could see the truth in his eyes and hear that he meant every word. "Some of them I asked them…I told them that I was going to call them your name. I wanted them to be you." His voice faltered. It had made sense to him at the time. It had even seemed like some kind of romantic notion that she might appreciate. It was clear in the curl of her lip and the flare of her delicate nostrils that she didn't find the idea at all romantic.

She turned her face away from him and with a tug, let him know that she didn't want him to hold her hand. With regret, he let her hand go and watched it slide over her stomach, and he couldn't help but wonder if their son was kicking, moving in ways that she could feel beneath her fingertips. He longed to put his hands beside hers' to feel what she was feeling. Instead, he curled his fingers around the safety rail until his knuckles turned white.

"I don't think I can do this," she said after a long, unbearable silence. "I don't think I can ignore those kinds of…_indiscretions_." She said the word like it tasted bad, like she was spitting it out on the sidewalk. He held his breath as she turned her dark, tear filled eyes to face him. "I don't know how they do it, Vero, Michelle…all the others. I don't know how they forgive you…I don't think I can," she added, her gaze holding his long enough that he knew there was going to be no way of arguing his way out of this. Not that he was sure he could. What argument could he use? He'd never been sure of how some of the other guys went back to their wives as if nothing had happened. How they picked up their kids with the hands that had touched another woman? He'd never intended to be that guy. He didn't feel like he was but he could understand how she would. "Even if, realistically, I know the math is wrong, that is, if I trust what you've said and that you didn't make a mistake before me…before us," her mouth curled up a little at the corners, almost like she still liked the idea of 'us'. It gave him a brief glimmer of hope. "I know that it will happen again. Other women will come and say the same thing and next time I won't know…I'll never know for sure."

She turned her face away and he heard her sob and it took every ounce of will power he had not to climb over the safety rail and gather her into his arms and promise her the world if she would only just forgive him this one time. She wouldn't want him to do that, he knew, even as the bar bit into the palms of his hands as he squeezed them ever tighter around it and he wasn't sure that he'd be able to keep the promises he'd make. If he'd been able to give up on them so easily once, if he'd been so quick to try and replace her once, he might do it again. Even if he thought he wouldn't. Even if he felt sure he could resist every temptation, knowing that he'd been doing it for years, could he be one hundred per cent sure it would never, ever happen?

"Please," he whispered, forcing his voice past the constriction in his throat that he thought might be his heart trying to climb out to spill itself onto the bed, for her. "Please Tabs…please." He wanted to say '_please forgive me'_ but he couldn't even forgive himself, so how could he ask her to forgive him? He wanted to say '_please love me'_ but in this moment he hated himself, so why should she love him? He wanted to say '_please give me another chance'_ but this had been a second chance and he'd lied, or at least he hadn't told her the truth and wasn't that the same thing? He didn't deserve any of those things, so all he could say was 'please' and know that he meant all of those things.

"Just go," she whispered, her face still turned away, but he didn't need to see it to know that she was crying. He could see her shoulders shaking, her chest rising and falling as she pulled in ragged breaths. The monitors began to squeal and he watched as the lines began to spike and climb and fear froze him to the spot.

"No," he sobbed, grabbing for her hand. "I told you, no one is going to take you from me and I meant it," he added in a hoarse whisper as nurses began to fill the room, as he heard them calling for an attending, as he watched them analyzing the printouts from the machines that were monitoring her heart and the baby's. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised, even when a nurse shooed him from the room, giving him that look that said she thought he'd caused this, that this was entirely his fault and how could he argue that? It was, it was completely his fault.

* * *

Tabby felt like she'd run a marathon. Every bone and muscle in her body ached. Worst of all, her head was pounding. One of the nurses said that the headache was a direct result of her high blood pressure. She'd also promised that one of the medications they were currently pumping into her veins through the i.v. was going to make it better.

She stared up at the ceiling and counted the tiles. Fourty-two. Two of them were cracked. Nearly all of them had some kind of stain on them. She wondered how many of those stains were blood and how many of them were worse than that, other human bodily fluids that made her stomach heave, threatening to spill its contents which wasn't much more than a few crackers and some rubbery lime flavored Jello. She wondered if they served that in the hospital because they got a discount on it, because no one ever buys lime Jello?

"Twins." She said it out loud and it still didn't sound real. She ran her hands over each side of her stomach and closed her eyes. "Twins," she said it again and felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. They hadn't given her a picture, like they had the first time, but she could still see the two sets of hands, the two feet, two bodies curled around one another like yin and yang.

They'd missed it the first time, the doctor had explained, probably because they'd been in line with one another, one hiding behind the other, their hearts beating in unison. She liked that thought; two little boys, each one defending and supporting the other, a defensive pair.

"They…a nurse told me we're having twins."

Tabby looked over at the doorway to where Sidney was standing, his charcoal suit rumpled, like he'd slept in it, his hair equally bedraggled, like he'd been pulling at it, his tie loose like a noose around his neck waiting to be tugged tight.

"That's what they say," she replied in a whisper, half relieved to see him, half angry that he still looked handsome despite the fact that he looked as if he could almost pass for homeless even though the suit was expensive. The tie alone was worth at least a hundred bucks.

"The nurse told me that they're going to be okay," he added, looking towards her hopefully, like he needed confirmation.

"As long as I keep my blood pressure down," she replied, unable to make herself frown threateningly like she wanted to. He really was too damn good looking, even now when he was looking even younger than he was, hesitant and scared. Reaching out, she offered her hand and watched relief break across his handsome features as he crossed the floor in three strides. Taking her hand in both of his, he fell to his knees and pressed his forehead against the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice rough rasping with emotion.

"I know," she smiled while tears welled in her eyes as she reached over to ruffle his hair with the fingertips of her free hand.

"If I lost you…any of you…," his voice trailed away as he turned his imploring gaze up to meet hers'. She could only nod. When the room had been full of doctors and nurses, strangers poking and prodding her, talking over her, through her, she'd wanted him. She'd wanted his hand to hold. She'd wanted him to tell her it was going to be okay. She'd wanted to look into his hazel eyes and see what she could see now, and she knew…this is how they do it. This is how they forgive them, because they love them.

"I guess you can't get rid of me that easily," she told him, brushing her hand down his face until he caught that one in his hand and kissed each knuckle before turning her hands over and pressing his lips to the centre of each palm.

"I don't want to get rid of you," he whispered fiercely as he turned his eyes up to her again. "I love you," he added in the same ferocious tone.

"I love you too," she whispered back, pulling his hand up to her mouth and pressing her lips to the back of his hand as he got back to his feet.

"I want this to work," he told her, still holding fast to both of her hands and giving each a firm squeeze. "I'll do anything," he added and the ardent look in his eyes told her that he meant it. Just for a moment she wondered if castration was too much to ask and then decided against it. She liked that part of him too much for that.

"Not that I want you to…you know…roam," she couldn't help but smile as she said it, though she was deadly serious, "but if you do, just be honest with me. No secrets. No _more_ secrets," she added just for clarification.

"I know you have no reason to believe me," he sighed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before he opened those hazel orbs and focused them on her full force, "but I don't want anyone but you Tabs. Since the first day I saw you in that bait shop, I haven't wanted anything or anyone else but you." He let go of her hands, but not before pressing another kiss to each of her hands. Tabby watched him quizzically while he searched his pockets until he found a small, slightly crushed, worn looking velvet box. Her breath caught in her throat. "I've been carrying this around with me since the day we broke up," he told her, opening the small box and withdrew a small, elegant looking ring from it. He held it up between his forefinger and thumb and then reached for her hand with his. "Tabitha King, marry me and be mine forever."

_**I'm gonna be honest, I was gonna have the baby die in utero and have them break up again, but honestly, with everything I've got going on at home with my old dog and now I've had two friends whose poor kitties have gone to the big scratching post in the sky this week, I couldn't do it  
_


	31. Chapter 31

_It's always hard to end a story, especially when I know that I'll be disappointing some people, but as I wrote this, I knew that this was it. It was almost as if the characters were whispering to me, that's it. This is enough, you've spied on our lives enough. So though it's hard to say goodbye, please look forward to another story soon_

**_Epilogue_**

"Not yet, not yet." Sidney held his eyes firmly over her eyes, even though she had a scarf tied around her head.

"If you let Max push me off the dock, I swear I'll stick your dick on the barbeque, cook it and eat it," Tabby warned. Sid grinned to himself. They'd driven in circles after leaving the airport, her eyes covered the entire time and even though she'd sworn she'd get car sick with the scarf on, Sidney had refused to allow her to remove it while Max and Jordan talked endlessly about upgrades Sid had done to the dock at his house. Oh he'd done upgrades alright, just not to _his_ dock. Well, it was _her_ dock technically, but he liked to think of it as _their_ dock.

"Max isn't coming any closer than the car, for now, I promise," he whispered to her as he walked backwards, slowly, leading her towards their final destination. "Jordan and Max will stay at the car with Toby and Cody, I promise," Sidney grinned, looking over her shoulder towards the two infants still strapped in their car seats.

"Well then the punishment doubles if anything happens to them while we're doing…whatever we're doing," she muttered, looking decidedly unhappy. "If I so much as hear a single squeal out of either one of my boys Jordan Lee Staal I will cut your dick _and_ your balls off and throw them in the lake!" Sidney saw Jordan wince but he wasn't worried. Every guy on the team were doting and loving uncles to his boys and had been since the day they were born, a week after Valentine's day, two weeks early."This had better be some fucking amazing gazebo Sidney Patrick Crosby, or else," Tabby snarled, wrenching Sidney's thoughts back from that amazing day when he'd first held his boys in his arms, back to the present.

"Just a few more steps," he promised, returning his gaze to the face of the woman that owned his soul and at least half of his heart. The other half their boys owned now.

"I don't get it," Tabby muttered, her teeth clenched. She really did not like surprises but he hoped this would be worth it. "Did you make the fucking gazebo out of solid gold or something?"

"If you'd asked me to I would have," he told her, gathering her against his chest as he turned her so that she was facing the lake, and the view he hoped they'd share for the rest of the summer. She sighed and leaned back against him and he smiled as he reached up to tug loose her blindfold. For one, long, agonizing moment, she didn't say a word. The next moment, he knew, by the hitch in her breathing that she was crying.

"My dock?" she managed, looking down at the new wood beneath their feet before she turned to look up the hill at the house with its new siding, new chimney and new deck. There was plenty more that was new about it, the renovations had been going for months. Those were things they could explore later.

"Yes, it's yours. I put it all in your name," he told her in an earnest whisper as he held her, his arms around her waist, his lips at her ear.

"When she'd told me it had sold I didn't even ask…I never thought," she sighed again, her shoulders lifting and falling with the deep intake of breath before she turned in the circle of his arms and lifted her hands up to capture his face. She grinned at him, her eyes shimmering with tears but with the same happy light that had filled them on that early morning five months earlier when Toby had been put in her arms and they'd looked at each other just like this, like life couldn't possibly get any better. "It's perfect…now everything is perfect," she added with a sniff as they pressed their foreheads together, "even though I'm beginning to think that you like me best when I'm pregnant."

"I don't know about _best_," he replied, moving one of his hands between them over the still small curve of her belly. It was still too soon to tell anyone, but they knew and the secret made him smile as did the memory of her waiting for him, the night the Pens' season ended in that black lace teddy. "So does that mean you will say yes now?" She hadn't said no, the day he'd finally manned up and asked her to be his wife, but she hadn't said yes either. She'd only said she was going to reserve judgment while he proved himself to her. He hoped he had, now.

"Yes," she smiled and then offered her lips up to him. He took them, gratefully, feeling a rush of relief as her arms snaked around his neck.

"Good because this whole thing about not sleeping with other people was getting old," he whispered against her lips, earning him a cuff to the back of the head. Not that he minded at all. He didn't seem to mind anything she did. "What I meant was, good, because we're getting married here tomorrow and it would have been a little awkward if you'd said no. I might have had to have taken Jordan up on his offer to tie you to a furniture dolly and wheel you out here like Hannibal Lector."

"He'd have liked that," Tabby laughed, her arms still around his neck, her eyes still shining but the tears were gone now. "Not sure Trin would have been suck a big fan though," she added, with a glance over her shoulder to where her friend stood beside Jordy, Toby in her arms. He knew it was Toby because he had the black sun hat on. Becky, Max's new girlfriend Becky had Cody, he was wearing the white sun hat. That was the way they could tell their little bundles of joy apart, when they couldn't see the puck shaped birthmark on Cody's cute little bum. At least he thought it was puck shaped. Tabby just thought it was kind of round. "So here?" she said glancing around, finally taking in the fairy lights on the gazebo and the toile draped around its' edges.

"I thought it was appropriate," he replied, reaching for her arms and slipping them over his head while he went down on one knee. "We had our first date here, sort of," he added, grinning up at her. "Until a couple of morons got in the way," he reminded her while he fished the ring out of his pocket. The ring she'd refused. 'Later' she'd told him. She had also told him she would let him know when she was ready. "_Sooo_," he grinned up at her, opening the box and holding the ring out to her. "Will you, finally, be my wife?"

"I thought I'd already answered that question," she replied, raising a single eyebrow and trying, but failing, to hide a smile.

"I just asked if you would say yes. This is the official, no going back, until death do us part question," he repeated, pulling the box back and holding it against his chest. "So, will you, Tabitha King, marry me and be my wife, forever and all that?"

"Yes, you idiot," she laughed, going to her knees and reaching for his lips with hers'. "Yes, yes, yes."

He thought he could hear the boys' cat calling and wolf whistling behind him. He thought he could even hear one of the boys crying, probably because of the piercingly loud whistle that Jordy was doing, but he didn't care. He kissed the woman he loved and slid the ring he'd been trying to put on her hand for almost a year onto her finger and his heart beat so hard in his chest he thought he might be having a heart attack, and he didn't care.

'_If I died right now'_ he thought to himself as her lips parted beneath his and her tongue slid over his, '_I'd die happy'. _


End file.
